The Smile of Family
by Ryan Libra
Summary: Wade Andies, a pokemart worker with psychic powers and strong pokemon. Wade Consable, the estranged illegitimate son of the leader of a pokemon syndicate. Which one was he? And how will things like family and friendship bring the two identities together?
1. Prologue

Author's Notes  
_Hello everyone! This is the first fic that I'll be uploading (I'm a tad shy, haha). There are slightly mature themes here (child abuse, etc.), but nothing unbearably repulsive._

_Just some stuff. This story is largely based on the game. However, it occurs in an entire new place (not region). Just an island. You'll get a bird's eye view of it in Chapter 1. In addition, psychics exist in this story. They may be scarce, but they're there. I will also introduce a concept here that I'm sure other authors have thought of in their own fics, just maybe in different names. But they won't be around in this chapter yet. :D_

_Pokémon is not mine, and I thank the wonderful people who made it so fans can make their fics._

_Hope you enjoy!_

- x x x -

**PROLOGUE**

"Father… why?"

Rain fell down from a bleak, bleeding sky, and it pattered on the rooftops and cemented streets of the town. The icy drops fell on a seven-year old boy who was bruised on the wet, muddy cement, and it mingled with his tears. Neither his tattered dark vest nor his ripped shorts were spared; they were as soaked as the boy's skinny frame. Like a false balm, the rain coated the blisters on his exposed feet.

In the boy's hand was a hard, spherical object, a pokéball containing an Eevee that his deceased mother had given him on her deathbed. Around him loomed dark brick walls with illuminated windows that glared and taunted. A doorway, the backdoor of some storage room, faced him and framed the man who was supposed to be his father.

"… Why? …"

Fleshy and bald except for the small patch of raven hair on his shiny head, the boy's father stared coldly at his son. The rain continued to pour. "No one disobeys the head of the Consable Clan, Wade. _No one_. Not even my son. When I tell you to steal, you bloody well do it! That's how you survive in the pokémon underworld! But no, your whore of a mother had to teach you her silly little virtues and her morality. Now look what I got for a son: a weakling! And there's no place for weaklings here in the Consable Clan."

"Stealing's wrong…" Wade whimpered. Mama had taught him that…

"Stupid!" the man roared. Wade shrank further into the wet darkness, away from the light where his father stood. "There is no right or wrong here, there's only the strong and the weak! We steal from those who are weak, from the pathetic who think that they can continue living their peaceful lives! If you can't act like the strong, then you're no son of mine!"

Several more men filed out of the doorway and surrounded the boy. Were they going to beat him up, like his father? The rain continued to pour.

The obese man who was supposed to be his father took one step towards Wade. "I denounce you," he said, each punctuated word a dagger to the boy's heart, "You are not my son. You are nothing."

No more. Wade bounded to his feet and blindly dashed into the welcoming darkness behind him. But before he could stumble a few more paces, something hard struck his head. He tottered down.

"Hey wimp, look what I got ya," a henchman said as he approached. "A Magikarp. Useless, just like ya, huh? 'Sides, ya should know by know that useless things are for useless people…"

"Whatcha gonna do now?" another voice asked condescendingly. "Run?" A cackle. "Let's see how far ya get before we catch ya!"

Fear hauled Wade out of the ground and whipped him into running, the Magikarp's pokéball gripped like a vice in his hand. His feet were so cold on the muddy cement, but he didn't care. He could hear the henchmen's wet footsteps chasing him. The footsteps seemed to be taking their time at first, but they became faster and faster. Wade ran.

_Mama_, he cried in his mind. _Mama! They're after me!_

A turn here. Another there. He maneuvered through the back streets and corners without knowing where he was going. Always, the footsteps remained, and so did the patter of rain. He almost slipped on a puddle, but fortunately he skidded and swerved into another corner. Where was he going? Where could he be safe? He just had to get away.

_Mama, why did you have to leave…_

Was that light? Maybe a street lamp. Wade was getting tired. The blisters on his feet didn't help. He leaned against the alley wall to catch his breath, and his heart leapt up when a shout emerged from the constant chatter of the rain. It took him a while to realize that the shout had come from outside the alley. Hiding behind a trash bin, Wade peered into the road and was momentarily absorbed by what he saw.

A fierce battle between two trainers seemed to have just finished. The victor, anxious to be out of the rain, was already jogging off the area. The defeated trainer, though, was unleashing his anger on his pokémon, and what he did made Wade's eyes widen in shock.

"You two are such useless pokémon!" the boy snarled. "Stupid and slow, no wonder you're called Slowpoke! I should never have caught you!" He kicked the poor things into the street lamp, hurled their pokéballs at the trash bin, and stomped off.

After a few seconds, Wade felt his heart beating again. He would never get used to trainers maltreating their pokémon. It was common in the Consable Clan, henchmen punishing their pokémon for a job that they had bungled, and Wade always stayed out of it. He could never get too close to the pokémon to help them; they were always recalled into their pokéballs afterwards. This time, though, he wasn't going to stand by and be helpless.

Making sure that there was no one in sight, he snatched the pokéballs, crept towards the street lamp and gingerly approached the pair of Slowpoke. They were stretched out on the wet, hard pavement like broken dolls, and though they were known to be dense and dimwitted, Wade saw the hurt in their eyes. One of them, thinking that it would receive more punishment, cringed and covered its eyes in terrified acceptance. But much to its shock, Wade dropped on his knees and cradled the two pokémon in his arms.

_I'll be here for you,_ he thought fiercely.

An eternity seemed to pass by. The cold slithered back to Wade's consciousness, and it reminded him how unrelenting the rain remained. He suddenly noticed that something was out-of-place, and it took him a few seconds before horrified realization came crashing into him like a stampeding Tauros.

Where were the footsteps?

"Finally caught ya, twerp."

Time froze. Two shadows loomed from behind him. A hand grabbed his shoulder and held it with the strength of a Kingler's claw. Wade lurched forward, but it only succeeded in turning him around to face his assailants. Another hand grasped his chin and jerked his head up. He feared for the Slowpoke. He feared for himself. He had to get away.

_Mama!_

A scream erupted from his throat. He struggled and beat at the arms that held him, but they only pulled harder.

"Let go!"

The goon snickered. "The boss will be pleased when we… what the? What's going on?"

Need. The need to escape was so strong. Wade raised his arms to knock the hands off him, but they… faded. And they weren't the only ones vanishing; so was the rest of his body. Wade and the henchmen shared expressions of stupefaction as he disappeared along with the two Slowpoke.

A new milieu surrounded him. He was no longer trapped in the suffocating labyrinth of buildings and alleys; a vast expanse of lush grasslands now spread out before him, grasslands that were cloaked with the mystery and danger of the night. A few solitary trees, dark, silent shelters from the rain, stood motionlessly on the horizon. The rain remained, and it was as merciless as ever.

The outskirts of the town… How had he gotten here? He shot the pair of Slowpoke a puzzled glance, but they only gave him their signature vacant stare. Wade doubted they had done anything. Then how…?

He decided that it wasn't important; what mattered now was that he was out of reach of those thugs and that he would never go back. He would take his chances with the wide darkness before him, one that beckoned him into its arms. He returned the Slowpoke into their pokéballs and continued running…

Only to be stopped as four henchmen sprang out from the buildings behind him. They produced pokéballs and released a pokémon each. Wade was faced with three Sandshrew and a Geodude. He ran towards the high blades of grass, but the thug with the Geodude overtook him and blocked his path. A chill danced its way up his spine.

"Will you just leave me alone!" Wade cried out. He released his Eevee; it emerged from its pokéball with its fur standing up as it growled. "Why are you still chasing me?"

"'Cuz we need to teach ya a lesson, kiddo!" the man with the Geodude replied with a nasty grin.

Wade faced the henchmen whose Geodude was cracking its knuckles. The air was still cold, but he felt something hot rising out from him. "Leave me alone!"

The grasslands that lay out before him was a nameless shadow that seemed to stretch forever, one that was much inkier than the indigo sky above. The darkness lapped at the feet of the henchman and his Geodude like a living thing. A screech suddenly pierced the constant babble of the rain, and another followed.

And another.

And another.

Wade's eyes widened in fear, but more with awe.

The darkness rose up from the grasslands and was heading for them like an ominous tidal wave, a moving wall of black that threatened to swallow them all up. From it burst forth screeches that made blood curdle and skin crawl. Yet the sounds calmed Wade.

"What…!"

"They're everywhere!"

"What are…?"

"Murkrow!"

True enough; the seemingly impenetrable wall of midnight was made up of flocks of Murkrow. The small, angry black birds with dreadful curved beaks and sharp talons rose up in number and rushed the henchmen. They screamed their protest as they took wing to help the boy, who watched in fascinated wonder. More of the Consable henchmen trundled toward the scene, but the birds Pecked them into panicked submission, and they fled.

The Murkrow landed and gingerly eyed the boy they had rescued. Wade slowly picked Eevee up and returned their quiet gazes.

_Thank you_, his mind said what his voice could not. And somehow, he knew that they understood.

The birds slipped back into the darkness of the grasslands. The rain began to mitigate; from brutal missiles they became light dewdrops. Wade, tired from running, plopped down on the muddy ground and tightly embraced Eevee's wet form. It whined in commiseration and licked his face.

Images and voices from days past confronted him in his mind, and he was forced to listen to their words. He saw his mother's face, a slender contour bordered by soft brown curls, downcast hazel eyes telling him that she missed him. Mama's face shattered into a thousand pieces and was replaced by the rotund form of his father's expressionless face, whispering how useless he was and that he was no longer his son. More came into mental view, another fat face with a pudgy nose and a chef's hat, an old, weather-beaten face with eyes that revealed immeasurable greed, and a gaunt face with a long graceful nose and chin; this one had the predatory air of a Fearow and the calculating scrutiny of a Noctowl. The faces were familiar, yet he could not name them now. They appeared, vanished, reappeared, and vanished again, a phantasmagoric parade that reminded him of how miserable his life was right now.

Where would he go? The only place that had poorly resembled a home he could return to was gone. He had no one to take care of him now; he had to survive on his own along with his four pokémon: Eevee, Magikarp, and the two Slowpoke. The night would be his only shelter.

Wade realized that he was crying softly. When he felt something soft and wet licking his cheek, he buried his face in the Eevee's fur. A Murkrow clamored sadly in the distance, as if to share what he was feeling. The sky's own tears had dried for some reason, but it was still cold.

Rustling. Feet passing through the grass. Wade mechanically raised his head and observed a long-haired boy, maybe a year older than he was, frantically scrambling after something. Behind him were a Pidgeotto, its wings flapping furiously, a Hoppip, its round red body drifting a little higher than the grass yet still keeping up the pace, and a Ledyba, its six appendages waving around indignantly.

"Give me back my watch, you thief!"

A familiar squawk swept by Wade. The scene should have been comical: a Murkrow with a watch in its beak being chased by an upset, odd-looking bunch, but the hilarity of the situation failed to permeate Wade's current disposition. He stayed still as the diminutive, black-feathered bird landed a few feet from him and mischievously eyed the boy, who had stopped to catch his breath.

"Man, that's what I get for forgetting the time while training! Alright, if you don't give me back my watch, I'll have Pidgeotto blow all your feathers away! I mean it! And… huh? Hey, what's wrong?"

The Murkrow, seeing as they were distracted, dropped the watch and, with a final caw, flapped away. The boy's Ledyba quickly retrieved the item and hovered back to the two boys.

The boy with blue eyes sat on his haunches and asked, "Are you alright?"

There was no answer. And this boy, in all the innocence and taintlessness that only a child could possess, dropped down and hugged the weeping little kid.

"I'll protect you…"

The rain had finally stopped, and the clouds began to clear away. Sadly, the sky did not promise to stop the coming of more downpours.

- x x x -

Author's Notes_  
There we go. Constructive criticism is very much welcome. Hope you guys liked it!_

_By the way, this version is a rewrite. Pruned it quite a bit to remove those awkward phrases (though I think I may have inadvertently left some... I suck at this... -sigh-)._


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Notes  
_Hello everyone! Here's Chapter 1!_

_Constructive criticism is always welcome. Steben, thanks for the review. I tweaked this chapter while putting into consideration some of the stuff that you pointed out, and they were really good points, especially on sentence fluency. I just hope I did a better job, hehe. :D_

_So people don't get confused about the conversations, sentences enclosed in brackets are thoughts being telepathically transmitted. The ones italicized are generally the character's private thoughts, while those in the usual quotation marks denote someone talking._

_Also, I use the same singular and plural form of the pokemon names. If you're asking why, well... One, so I won't have to think (this author's lazy, you must be thinking, ehehe), and two, some pokemon names I find awkward when made plural ("Dustoxes," "Salamences,"). Also, how do you make words like "Ralts" plural? "Raltses" seems... unwieldy. Hopefully the context in the sentence will reveal if one or more of the pokemon type is being used. I hope you guys don't mind._

_I don't own pokemon. But I sure do enjoy it._

_EDIT (5-16-09): I've edited this chapter (again). All in the name of brevity. I suck at it, unfortunately. -le sigh-_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 1**

Shore Island wasn't written on any map. It was a small patch of land surrounded by the pristine sea east of the large region known as Kanto. There were two signs of civilization: Ebony Town, a bustling business area found on the western tip, and Ochre Village, a practically ramshackle collection of small houses situated in the Ochre Desert on the southern part.

Spread out over the northern territories was an overgrown maze of foliage known as the Coast Woods, and in its eastern part was an underground cave that led to a separate islet, queerly called the Dot because it was so tiny. The cave offered great exploring, as long as one didn't mind sharing the tunnels with the resident Wooper, Geodude, Zubat, and Cubone that thrived there.

Ebony Town wasn't graced with the towering skyscrapers that were characteristic of modern business centers, and perhaps this was the reason why no map had bothered to prove the island's existence. However, the amount and variety of merchandise made up for the absence of tall buildings. Hi-Potions, Antidotes, Mystic Water, vitamins like Carbos and Protein, and even evolution pieces like Water Stones and King's Rocks, they were all there. Some Ebony residents even had the boldness to claim that their town could stand up to the stores of Celadon in Kanto or Goldenrod in Johto.

Unfortunately, rampant rumors claimed that Ebony was also a magnet for smuggled, stolen, and poached goods. How much these rumors mirrored the truth wasn't exactly clear, but one thing was sure: it was hard not to notice the liveliness at the docks and the extra shadows that skulked in the alleys during some nights.

Nonetheless, the town remained an adequate tourist spot, what with the Pokémon Center, the pokémarts, the library, and even a park with grassy areas that held Pidgey and Oddish and trees that could be Headbutted for Aipom, with their curious udder-looking tails. Tourists also came for the pokémon battles. After all, there were always many trainers who were raring to lock horns with any who seemed battle material.

Ebony was not only famous for its plethora of merchandise; what truly made it a magnet for tourists was the annual Pokémon Fair. The event was a conglomeration of everything trainer and everything pokémon, one that celebrated the human-pokémon relationship via merchants that sold their products and services. The shops, though, were only a small part; there were tournaments, races, freebies, and food. Tourists often complained that five days was too short for such a marvelous occasion, but Ebony officials argued with insufferable smiles that that only served to add to the magic and glitter of it all. Whatever _that_ meant. It was probably a ploy to make those cartographers wise up.

As it happened, it was Monday early morning, and, as it happened, it was the first day of the Ebony Pokémon Fair. And this was the reason why the Andies Pokémart was in turmoil.

- x x x -

"Angeline! The shelves!"

"Yes, Mr. Andies!" a seventeen-year old girl with short auburn hair swiftly replied. Shaped like an Oddish, her duster had been raised into the air like a brandished sword out to get those spots of dust. On one of the shelves beside her, a real Oddish named Gardenbeast chirped a smart affirmative, as if answering to a general. "Cleaning on-going!"

"Lilibeth! The counter!"

"Yes, Mr. Andies!" called out another seventeen year-old girl, this time with long pink tresses and an oversized pair of glasses that always fell—like now. She hastily bent down to pick it up, only to find out that her Teddiursa Smiley had done so for her. "Still being polished!"

Skye sighed as he pushed a portion of his blond bangs from his blue eyes. Still occupied with unloading Potions from a wooden crate, the fifteen-year old removed the tie that neatly held his ponytail in place and reapplied it a bit more tightly. "Dad, you know that everything won't look spotless clean once the hordes of tourists arrive. Besides, it's the amount of stuff we have that really counts."

"You may be right, son," replied Mr. Allison Andies. At thirty-six, he looked like a man who still seemed far away from forty, someone who still looked good in a sleeveless shirt—a blue one today with a single horizontal brown line running across the bottom—and join a triathlon. Which he was doing right now, though the race he was running was against time. Who knew when the Pokémon Fair tourists would come bursting in for a Wailord of a time haggling, grabbing, and buying. Like his son, Mr. Andies was not really muscular but more of slender; unlike his son, though, he wore his flaxen hair short. "But it's always good to start the day—or the Fair, for that matter—prepared." Readjusting his glasses, he heaved a box of King's Rocks over to a corner and opened it. "Call it ritual."

Skye chucked a few more Potions out of the crate and onto the shelf, but before he could empty the entire crate, he glimpsed a speck of brown from the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he observed Wade, his brown hair covering his deep violet eyes, staring out into space. Three silver huggy earrings on the helix of the other's right ear gleamed sullenly at him, as if to berate him for invading his space. Skye took a look at the Repels that Wade had sorted on the shelf.

"Need any help?" he asked.

Wade seemed to quietly return to himself before resuming his task. Silence was his reply.

"I'm pretty much done here, anyway, and—"

"Quit bothering me. Go talk to a Slowpoke or something."

Miffed, Skye hurriedly shelved the rest of the Potions, dragged the empty box, and stomped off toward the storage room. The fifteen-year old didn't think he could ever understand Wade. He remembered the sky on the night that he had first met him; it had been a wide indigo of despair, an expanse that concealed many secrets. And just his luck, he had been so immersed in his training that he had forgotten the time, and his punishment for it had been a thorough drenching in the rain. A lonely tree in the field had offered its meager shelter, but luck had played him a pawn of its rascality. The dark shape of a Murkrow had somehow nipped his watch off his wrist and fled.

And that was how he had arrived at where Wade had been. The brown-haired boy had looked like luck had even dealt him a fiercer blow. The seven-year old had not answered when Skye had asked him if he had a home, so he had brought him to the pokémart where Dad had welcomed him. Skye knew his father's yearnings for another child, something that couldn't be possible with grief over a wife who had passed away and a reluctance to remarry. And he was all too well aware of his own yearnings for a younger sibling, but the problem was, this one was highly inaccessible.

Skye took a box of Water Stones and shelved its contents with pride. The Andies pokémart was the only shop here in Ebony that sold these stones, as well as other rare merchandise such as King Stones and Mystic Waters. Also, they were the only shop who had a move tutor—his ever reliable dad, of course!—with a cache of Water and Flying moves for sale.

"There's another box of King's Rocks in the storage room, sir," said Wade softly. "Should I bring it out?"

"There is?" Dad snatched a clipboard from the counter and peered into it intently. "Oh, there is! I was planning to leave it there until our initial stock got depleted." He returned the clipboard near the cash register with a jocund plunk. "I'm really grateful, Wade. It's thanks to you that we have all these extra merchandise. Is it really true that you regularly dive for them?"

Wade nodded without pausing in his work.

_I just wish he didn't do it at night!_ thought Skye irately. _That way I won't have to follow him like a stalker to make sure he's alright! I know he has a Gyarados for a guard dog, but still!_

The front door opening caught his attention. Dad quickly let in two youths: one who was as muscular as a Machoke, and the other as slender as a Persian. Curious, Skye approached the two.

"Skye," Dad said, "these are the help I asked for in the posters we put up all over town. This one's Bobby, and the other's Thomas."

"Hi, guys," Skye greeted cheerfully as he hid his puzzlement. He still didn't know why his dad had hired help; after all, he, Wade, Angeline, and Lilibeth were around to man the shop.

"Business has been really good, son," Mr. Andies said as he clapped a hand on Skye's shoulder. "Good enough that I can take in some help in the store so we can rotate in our store duties. It isn't proper to be working all five days of the Fair when there's so much to do out there." Mr. Andies then donned a mischievous grin and poked his index finger onto the tip of Skye's nose. "Besides, I want to check out the Evolution Exhibit they're setting up on Wednesday, so that'll be my day off."

Skye rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Any chance that they're highlighting Water or Flying types?"

"You bet!" Dad exclaimed enthusiastically. "There's even a discussion on the fascinating dual evolutions of Slowpoke and Poliwhirl! It's really amazing that they share a necessary ingredient to their alternative evolutions…"

As Mr. Andies rattled on, Skye flashed an apologetic smile at Bobby and Thomas before hauling them over to the storage room. After explaining to the two what to do with all the boxes, he went back outside, only to find out that Dad was still prattling on about King's Rocks and its potential to cancel the opponent's next move by making it flinch, and how this was connected to Slowking and Politoed.

_He's giving me a headache…_ Skye had always wondered where his father's erudition came from. "Hey, Dad! It's almost seven! We should open up shop now."

"… with the mysterious effect of…? Oh, my. It _is_ seven. Angeline, Lilibeth, the floor!"

"Yes, Mr. Andies!" the two girls answered in unison as they ran around the pokémart with abused brooms being squished on the gleaming tiles.

"Wade," Dad called, "how are the Repels? They were rather plenty."

"All done, sir."

"Well, don't overwork yourself… Wait, I almost forgot!" Dad pulled out two envelopes from the side pocket of his pants and handed one to Skye and the other to Wade. "Those are your allowances for the fair." He arched an eyebrow at them. "You'd better spend them wisely, especially since I've added a little more due to our profits. And since today is Bobby and Thomas's first working day, why not have the day off?"

"You're the best, Dad!" Skye whooped as he hugged him. Before he could climb up to the second floor to change, though, he found himself glancing at Wade, who was oddly staring at the envelope in his hand. Skye was alarmed. For a moment there, Wade's eyes had seemed to mist, but it was hidden so quickly that it had almost been imperceptible. Dad passed a silent message at him with a quick look from the corner of his eye, but before he could return an answer, Wade was already climbing the stairway.

"I think I'll change first," Wade muttered.

Again with a silent inquiry from his eyes, Dad asked Skye what exactly had happened. Skye could only shrug, but at least they knew one thing. It wasn't the first time a crack had appeared in that wall.

- x x x -

The morning sun in the sky seemed to be the giant trumpeter of the arrival of the Ebony Pokémon Fair. And indeed, the Fair was ready to go, beginning with the numerous shops in town that were opening up and displaying their merchandise. Majority of them, which littered the streets in their colorful stalls, seemed to have come from outside the island. The bigger booths were set up to accommodate temporary residence for the salespeople, though it was highly doubtful that they'd get any sleep since tourists also thrived in the night. Their wares were ever variable: food, items, pokémon, computers, literature, scientific journals, technical machines, services, and so many others.

Laughter poured into the air. Music blared out from speakers. Now and then the shopkeepers stirred up a rumpus with bets: who'd sell the most pokémon, who'd lose in a battle, who'd meet a husband or wife during the Fair, and so on.

Grills gave off wafting smells of barbecue. The freezers held their precious cargo: tons of ice candy and ice cream in assorted flavors, not to mention the occasional Spheal with their spherical bodies enjoying the cold. Not to be outdone, the other restaurants blew out tantalizing smells of frying spices and meats.

The pokémon also gave their best in building a welcoming atmosphere. Hoppip, like cute red balloons with a baby's squiggles on their surfaces, floated high and carried banners about wonderful discounts, unbelievable bargains, and upcoming events. Kadabra fired their Psybeams into the air; the beams were less noisy than actual fireworks, but they still did a fine job of coloring the sky. Mr. Mime walked the streets with their miming acts; they would copy a police chase, a cooking session, or even a pokémon battle. Here and there a Ludicolo, their headdresses bouncing around, would be dancing to the beat of blaring music with their arms waving and their legs stomping.

Wade silently walked beside Skye, who seemed to enjoy the sights, smells, and sounds. The sun was no doubt going to be a scorcher, so Wade had on an ocean-blue tank top, beige calypso pants and simple white walking shoes, perfect in case they decided to go by the stalls at the beach. His shades were slung around the front of his neck, and his anklet—a thin rope with a small shiny figure of an Eevee—loosely encircled his left ankle. Skye had opted for something simpler: a sleeveless Magikarp-red shirt, blue denim pants, and leather-strap sandals. A bracelet made from different-colored cords and interweaved to form a wavy white pattern looked so natural on his right wrist. What did _not_ belong there, though, were the smudges of catsup and mayonnaise that had come from a hamburger that he had bought from a nearby stall and had already snarfed down.

The two boys passed by another booth that was currently releasing the merchandise pokémon into wooden pens, when suddenly, the deafening Uproar of wailing Whismur tore the air. Wade's eyebrows rose as the shopkeeper merely plopped giant lollipops into the pink, round pokémon's mouths to keep them quiet. Skye's eyes seemed stuck to the blue-feathered bird pokémon hopping around beside the Whismur. The sign beside them read, "Taillow."

It was no secret that Skye was in love with Flying pokémon; they didn't even have to be birds. He had bought a Gligar from the past Pokémon Fairs and had lost his head in the sheer enjoyment of training it. It was now a formidable Gliscor, a winged terror that seemed to have leaped out of vampiric folklore, especially with its night colors, creepy-looking eyes, and dreadful claws.

"I want one…" Skye whined, but before he could fish out his wallet from his pocket, Wade stopped him.

"Don't be a moron," he said, looking annoyed. "You want to spend everything on the first day? Buy something unusual so you get your money's worth."

Skye faced him with big, teary, pleading eyes, but such Jigglypuff-cute tactics never worked on him. Wade gave him a look that would have put a Haunter to shame, and Skye cowered.

Leaving Skye to drool at the Taillow, Wade continued walking and stopped by a booth with three pokéballs nestled in a glass container containing crumpled newspapers. The sign stole his attention: "Level 1 Sneasel for Sale!"

Newly hatched, Wade supposed. If Skye had his Flying types, he had his Water and Dark types. At least he had the dignity not to drool. He approached the stall and asked the plump, motherly shopkeeper how much they were.

"I'd normally give them for two thousand," she said with a smile, "but since you're such a fine-looking young man I can give one for one thousand five hundred." Wade got the feeling that she wasn't finished with her sales talk, and he was proven right when the lady fished out a technical machine from her pocket and waved it in his face. "But if you buy one with this TM Ice Punch, here, you can get the set for only two thousand two hundred! Isn't that a bargain?"

Wade's fingers twitched towards his pocket. He supposed that he had as much self-control as that idiot Skye, which was not saying much. He was about to bring out the money when an annoying face suddenly popped up on his right shoulder.

"And here's your money, my fair shopkeeper!" Skye cheerfully said as he handed a wad of bills to her.

"There's no need—" Wade heatedly began.

"Oh, my, are you two brothers?" the shopkeeper suddenly asked as she plucked the bills from Skye's hand. She chuckled as she pocketed the money. "You're both such beauties, I'll give you that, and if I had any daughters I'd be careful with customers like you."

"And I'm sure that those daughters would be just as lovely as you, ma'am." Skye flashed her a dazzling smile. Wade wanted to vomit. The shopkeeper's face turned crimson, and she giggled. She then skipped over like a girl to one of the wooden boxes that held her merchandise and brought out a small object that looked like a claw.

"Here's a freebie for being such a charming fellow," she said, still blushing. "It's a Razor Claw, and they saw that it's somehow connected to Sneasel. Now be off with you before you cause anymore mischief."

"You're as generous as you are lovely," Skye said. "Thank you, and goodbye." With a final smile, he left and trailed after Wade, who had such an expression of loathing that other people around him cringed and hurried their pace.

The two teenagers moved on to another booth, this time selling Ice-Ground pokémon known as Swinub, which looked a lot like brown bushy sandals with a snout attached in front. Skye ran his fingers across its fur.

"What was that all about?" Wade asked in barely suppressed anger.

The shopkeeper of this stall was at the moment upbraiding one of his aides, who seemed to have misplaced the other Swinub for sale. The helper could only insert his answers in between the merchant's sputters and gnarls; it was vaguely something about the Swinub suddenly running off.

"Listen, I don't need any of your—"

"I'm only following your advice, you know."

What Wade was about to say stopped short in his throat. His eyebrow went up in a perplexed arch.

Skye looked him in the eye, and there were no jokes in them. "I've never really bought anything for you, and so the purchase by itself was already unusual. I'm simply getting my money's worth, that's all."

A little girl and her mother passed by. An Eevee with eyes as round as saucers followed them. Its bushy brown tail wagged so hard that it accidentally got caught in between its legs, making it trip. The child and her mother didn't notice, so they kept on walking despite its distressed whines. Skye lifted the poor thing in his arms and called after the two, who immediately ran back and expressed their gratitude. Wade found himself staring at the Eevee, whose big, moist eyes locked on Skye. Mother, daughter, and pokémon quickly disappeared in the river of people.

"I don't know what happened when we first met seven years ago, on that wet night outside the town," Skye continued. "Maybe I'll never know. All I know is, you seemed pretty lost and hurt. I've never asked about it, and I'm willing to wait an eternity when you're ready to tell, but in the meantime, I guess I just want you to know that there's someone who's watching out for you."

The many noises of the Pokémon Fair included the cries of pokémon in their stalls, shopkeepers bellowing their bates, lively music rushing from the speakers, and the chatter of excited customers. But sometimes, if one was observant enough, the deafening din of silence could be heard over it all.

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_To Clockwerk: I agree; it can be a joy to experiment with one's writing style. We just have to keep working on it until we're finally comfortable with it. Add in the good and bad points that comes from criticism, and writing becomes a pleasure._

_I might post Chapter 2 soon. Just to move things a bit._


	3. Chapter 2

Author's Notes_  
Chapter 1 has been tweaked._

_Okay... It used to be that the brackets I use for telepathic conversations didn't work, so I had to switch to hyphens. But now, after the whole change in format thingy in the site, the brackets work. Therefore, since I much prefer brackets, I'm changing everything back. Hooboy._

_Also, I decided to change my dividers. Sometimes, something goes wrong with the horizontal dividers. Wah._

_I don't own pokemon... It owns me (just kidding!)._

_EDIT (8-1-09): This was revised (again. Nothing much on plot, mostly on sentence structure, etc.). Rewriting is good for author-hobbyists. :D  
_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 2**

"Careful with those poles, you bozos!" barked a pudgy man with a nose the size and color of a tomato. "You want the whole roof to collapse on the customers while they're eating?"

The object of this man's ire was a couple of hired help struggling to put up a wooden pole that would serve to support large cinnamon-colored canvas covering. There were others hoisting similar wooden posts, and still more wrestling with the canopy itself.

The fat man dipped a short, stubby finger into a bowl nestled between his ham of a forearm and his ample stomach. He sucked at the chocolate mixture coating his finger and grimaced. "Even the chocolate's doing a bad job. Alright you Numel-skulls! We have little time left before we go full-throttle on this whole operation. So many tourists out there already, and we're still warming the pans and serving appetizers! This ain't no old lady's kitchen, so hustle! You!" he snapped at a lackey. "Are the supplies there, yet?"

The man trembled. "Not yet, sir."

"Tarnation!" The man with the tomato-nose almost smashed his bowl on the Numel-skull's head." How are we gonna serve the cinnamon and chocolates if we have no supplies! Charmeleon!"

An orange lizard wearing kitchen mitts and an apron appeared in the doorway behind him. The doorway was coughing out plumes of smoke from the kitchen, but the Charmeleon didn't seem to worry about it.

"Warm those ovens," the man ordered. "The stuff could be coming anytime soon."

"Sir, the supplies and other equipment have arrived!" a voice from the kitchen hollered.

"Perfect. We better get cooking, then."

- x x x -

Wade distractedly took a random item from a box. He and Skye had entered a small shop made from sturdy wooden poles and black canvas covering, where pens containing pokémon from the nearby Yellow Desert grunted curiously at passing tourists. A few of the Sandshrew and Ekans lay in contented curls in the corners of the pens, while Numel, their single humps occasionally spouting fire, stared emptily outside the tent. There were a few scattered items in the two boxes beside the pen, and Skye had spotted something he fancied: a Ground attack-powering Soft Sand he could use for his Gliscor. Beside the thin shopkeeper stood a massive Camerupt with a ribbon on its head and a bell hanging from its collar. The pokémon was the evolved form of Numel, and its two humps looked ready to burst out with boiling magma.

Which was exactly what Wade felt like doing right now.

[Why are you so angry?] a voice slowly asked in his mind.

[Go away,] Wade heatedly answered.

But the voice didn't. [Go away? How?]

Wade's anger was suddenly deflated at Slowbro's simple but somehow profound inquiry.

[I'm just so confused,] he thought sullenly. [I don't get Skye at all, that moron!]

[But why?] Slowking, Slowbro's partner in their twiddledum-twiddledee combo, asked. [He's being very nice.]

[I don't want him to be nice.] Wade replied. [I just want him to leave me alone.]

[You're returning his niceness with not being nice?] Slowbro asked. [But that's not nice.]

Wade laughed at the silliness of it all. It was hard arguing against a Slowbro and a Slowking. Skye glanced at him worriedly and looked like he was concerned about his sanity. Maybe there really was reason to doubt it; after all, what sane person heard voices in his head?

[I wouldn't pursue the argument further if I were you, Wade,] Umbreon advised, its mental voice a clear sound in his head. [You'll have more luck winning in a dispute against a rock.]

[Crazy Psychic pokémon,] Gyarados muttered. Wade had to suppress another burst of laughter.

Mental banter between trainer and pokémon was generally impossible; the closest to it were the impressions, feelings, and images that were sometimes exchanged between the two. But not actual thoughts!—well, maybe except Psychic pokémon. Wade had not bothered asking other trainers if they could telepathically communicate with their pokémon; he knew right from the start that it was unnatural. If his Pokémon had been downright flabbergasted the first time he had spoken to them with his mind, he himself had nearly fainted when the idiots began talking back in understandable English.

[You're scared, Wade,] Slowking said. [You're scared of getting close and being hurt. But it's okay to feel like that; after all, we've gone through the things that that you've gone through. You'd think we'd hate humans after what happened, but no. You've shown us that humans aren't all bad; you've shown us that we would grow to love humans because of the care that you've given us.]

[What's not okay,] Slowbro continued, [is for you to keep being scared. It makes you push people away. Skye's just concerned for you, and maybe it's time for you to recognize that.]

Wade stared at the Friend Ball he was holding, then flung it back to the box as if it had burned his hand. He glimpsed Skye from the corner of his eye. While paying the shopkeeper, the long-haired teenager gaped at the colossal Camerupt, which flatly stared back. A smile endeavored to curve his lips, but failed.

"Excuse me." Footsteps approached. Wade regarded the shopkeeper. "I was hoping that you and yer brother could keep watch ov'r me pokémon fer a little while. You see, I seem to have misplaced the oth'r box containing the pokéballs housing me Sandshrew and Numel. Have no one here to help me, and since you two're me first customers, I was wond'ring if you could stay a while. Yer brother already said yes, so…"

People often mistook them for brothers, and Wade had always kept quiet about it. He supposed that there was no harm in looking after the shop for a bit. He just nodded.

"Great! Thanks, kids! The price list is ov'r there; just make sure that you don't get swindled by them customers! Besides, being Andies's boys, you shouldn't have trouble doing that. Hey Camerupt, guard the shop with these kids, you hear? Roast anyone dumb enough to sneak in to steal me merchandise." The shopkeeper left.

Wade turned away from Skye. He bemusedly shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tried to be utterly absorbed in the Numel, which, he found out, was dreadfully boring. He pretended to watch the passers-by outside the shop for a few minutes, then suddenly decided to buy food.

"I'll be back," he said as he trotted out, which left a baffled Skye alone to deal with the creepy Camerupt. That ribbon and bell sure did nothing to reduce its menacing aura.

The tourists walked the streets in herds, like Tauros ready to trample anything in their way. Wade's heart nearly rocketed to his head as a Ludicolo bounced in front of him with a twirl of its round, shaggy body. He shot it a glare that could have melted a hole in a wall, causing the dancing pokémon to shrink back behind the shop it came from.

The smell of hotdogs on a grill stopped him in his tracks, and he allowed himself to be guided by the enticing aroma. After procuring four hotdogs from the booth, he hastily retraced his steps back to the Yellow Desert shop and wished that the volcanic monster guarding it hadn't erupted yet.

"Get back here, you scooting pincushions!"

Something soft scurried past his feet. Wade sighted a pair of Swinub dashing madly away underneath all those legs; it wasn't long before a few indignant squawks from shocked pedestrians pierced the air. He jumped to the side as two panting women pursued the brown-furred pokémon with a net and pokéballs in their hands. Behind them were a group of men who were running just as fast. Wade flatly stared at the spectacle, shrugged it off, then went back to the shop.

Once there, he tossed two of the sticks to Skye, whose eyebrows climbed up to his hair as he caught the hotdogs.

"What's this?"

"Food, moron."

Skye blinked. "I know, but what's it for?"

"It's for eating." Then in a final sort of way, Wade chomped off a chunk from his own.

Skye grinned. "You're a lot more than you let on, you know that?" Wade ignored the idiot's remark and instead concentrated on finishing the hotdogs.

A few customers passed by; Wade courteously met them and led them from pen to pen as he showed each of the three different pokémon that could be found in the Yellow Desert: hard-skinned Sandshrew, lithe Ekans, and idle Numel. A couple of them decided to buy, only the price they wanted was so low that Wade got annoyed. A flat stare was all it took for them to pick a pokémon and leave the payment in a terrified scramble. Skye just gaped.

Soon enough, the shopkeeper was back. He dejectedly reported that he couldn't locate the crate. The thin man offered to pay them for the sales, but Skye waved him off. After saying their goodbyes—Skye's a cheerful motion while Wade's a perfunctory flick of his wrist—they left to peruse the other shops.

On their way out, the two spotted a pair of bedraggled women stomping by, their eyebrows so drawn together and their foreheads so furrowed that people leapt out of the way. Wade guessed that they had failed to catch their Swinub.

So many other pokémon shops littered the streets. Chirrups, growls, whines, and trills clashed with the fast music streaking out from the speakers. Skye spotted a pokémon with bizarre eyes that rotated in weird angles and slender wings that were almost translucent. He approached the portly fellow manning the store and asked for the Yanma's price. Grimacing after hearing it, Skye nevertheless bought the Bug-Flying pokémon and attached its pokéball to his belt.

"Looks like you got yourself a new pokémon, there," a nasal voice loudly observed. Irritated, Wade turned and impassively regarded an athletic-looking eighteen-year old twirling a blue and white great ball on his index finger. Beside him was a younger lad, maybe the same fourteen that Wade was, who also had a condescending sneer carved on his mouth. A sneer that Wade so badly wanted to wipe off. "It's too bad that Yanma are really weak pieces of Electabuzz fodder," the arrogant youth said as he released a mean-looking yellow-furred pokémon with a robust torso and powerful long arms. Jagged streaks of black slashed the yellow monotony of its body and made it look fiercer. A beam of light flashed beside it, and in its place stood the other guy's pokémon, a dashing Wartortle with its shell gleaming in the sun and its fluffy tail rigid in anticipation of the battle.

_What a bunch of conceited jerks_. Wade had just the plan to teach these idiots a lesson. Slowbro would fit the part quite nicely…

"Who ever said I'd use Yanma to kick your sorry butts?" Skye said. "I wanted a pokémon to train, and Yanma's as good a pokémon as any other. But for now, it won't be the one playing with you guys." He enlarged a pokéball and released what could almost be described as a Zubat-like creature—it certainly had the wings, ears, and violet body to prove so. Still, Zubat didn't have fearsome pincers or a stinger on its tail, nor did it command the kind of dreadful presence that this particular pokémon could. "You up for a tag battle, Wade? My Gliscor could use some company."

"Nothing brightens my day more than giving annoying know-it-alls a good wallop." A flash of light that appeared beside the Gliscor solidified into a big, round, pink pokemon with a gastropod clamped on its tail. It turned its round, dull eyes at the opposing pokémon and regarded them as if they were a jigsaw puzzle to solve. "Slowbro, show them your stuff."

[Okay,] the Psychic pokémon benignly replied.

"Psychic on the Electabuzz."

As Skye's Gliscor speedily batted its wings at the unsuspecting Wartortle, Wade's Slowbro broke out of its torpor and got into action. Its eyes glowed a virulent white before an unseen force seemed to crush Electabuzz into a small ball. The Electric monster fell into an unconscious heap, right next to the battered shell of the Wartortle.

Wade quickly recalled Slowbro. [I know. It really wasn't worth it; they weren't even half our strength. But maybe next time they'll think twice about underestimating their enemy.]

Gyarados sniffed in his mind, or at least gave Wade a mental impression of the Atrocious pokémon sniffing. [You should've sent _me_ out. They'd never even _think_ of belittling their opponent once I give them a look.]

The formerly overconfident fourteen-year old shook his head in disbelief. "Just one Wing Attack, and Water Crusher's out! Let's get the heck out of here!" The two boys dived into the throng of people, where their pitiful scampering faded into the constant march of tourists.

Skye whooped and squeezed Wade in an exuberant Ursaring hug. "We did it! We did it!" Wade thought he heard one of his ribs crack, and Skye's jumping up and down like a madman made him think that they were going to snap any moment now. "The best teamwork, such fluid motions, what power!—" He suddenly extricated his arms from Wade and wrapped them around his Gliscor, which desperately tried to break free. "You too, Gliscor, you were so great! I'm such a proud trainer having a winner like you on my team!"

"It won't stay long on your team if you hug it to death," Wade remarked as he rubbed his ribs. "I swear, you are _such_ a pain!" He grasped the back of Skye's shirt and hauled him off to the next shop before some idiot spectator could challenge them to another match. "Now move it; you're blocking the walkway."

Skye recalled his Gliscor and simply allowed himself to be dragged off. He still had a smile on as he turned around and draped an arm around Wade, who immediately shook it off with a glower.

"Go kiss a Qwilfish or something." Skye just laughed.

A few more battles obstructed their path, and in exceedingly cramped spaces, no less. There was even a battle against a psychic who had his pokéballs impressively floating around him, though Wade had made short work of his Drowzee and Kadabra. The challenges were quite easy, but this wasn't really a surprise since Wade's pokemon were in insanely high levels. Around the fifties, enough perhaps to challenge an Elite Four set from whatever region. Umbreon was his most powerful pokemon; he had been training the Eevee-lution since he was seven years old, and it could hold its own even against the most brutal of Bugs or Fighting types. As for Skye's own pokemon, Wade wasn't sure how strong they were, but he was certain that they were as powerful as his own. He could tell as much from how they moved and responded to Skye's every composed command.

_Stupid trainers_. Wade had half a mind to clear the way with Gyarados. The serpentine behemoth could just plow them a path devoid of rabid trainers, clingy tourists, and—

He slammed into a shaggy yellow mass with a protruding beak and a funny headdress and ungracefully fell on his behind. Crazy Ludicolo! If the idiot pokémon wasn't a Water type he'd have Gyarados grind it to pieces! Instead he settled for a freezing glare and a resonant growl.

"You must be hungry," Skye cheerfully observed.

"I am not." He shifted said freezing glare to the blonde.

Skye snickered. "C'mon. Why don't we eat at some fancy place."

"I'm fine with a burger and fries."

"I got this back there," Skye said as he flashed a green pamphlet with a stylized "The Great Gardevoir" written in front, along with pictures of salads with exotic-sounding dressings, entrees with delectable sauces and garnishes, and…

And cakes.

Unable to remove his eyes off the pictures of chocolate-strawberry mousse, vanilla chiffon, and the pineapple rhum cake, Wade felt his sweet tooth call out to him, demanding to be satisfied.

But it was more than that…

- x x x -

"Wade!"

He heard the slight urgency in that whisper. A six-year old Wade turned around, flung his blanket down and bolted up from his small bed. He sneezed as dust tickled his nostrils, but quickly covered his mouth in fear of being found out by the clan henchmen.

"Mama?"

She smiled at him. "I'm glad you're awake." She brought out a box, small enough to fit in her palm, and placed it on his bed. Wade's eyes widened, and his cheeks took on a rosy glow.

"Is it…?"

Mama brought out two plastic forks and sat on the bed. "I thought we could share it." She had a sweet smile on her tired face. And once the box was opened, a vanilla chiffon with layers of soft white cream greeted them and pleaded to be devoured.

- x x x -

"Wade!"

He started. What was he doing on the ground? Oh, that loony Ludicolo. Skye took his arm and hauled him up. Wade stole a glance at the pamphlet.

"That bump must have rattled you more than I thought," Skye said. "The best way to remedy that is a full stomach! So you want to try it out?"

Wade looked away. "If you want," he answered softly. He felt Skye's unsure pause, and a desire for a question to be answered, but he was grateful when he didn't say anything.

"What the—!"

Before Wade knew it, Skye had grasped his arms from behind and was steering him this way and that while his mouth went on like a train. "I saw the menu, and my mouth's watering over that grilled steak with herbed mashed potatoes and homemade gravy! But I can't decide if I want that or the buttered salmon, I hear they cook it so soft that it really melts in your mouth! Should we order a salad? I'm not big on them, though, but if you want one I guess we could get the one with the crispy noodles." Wade almost squawked as they nearly collided with a bunch of Mr. Mime acting out a burglary. "I know! Pasta! You want pasta? How about that seafood paella? The pamphlet says that it's a little spicy…"

A vein twitched in Wade's head. His eyes narrowed. And he was getting hungry. Irritation and hunger were never a good combination with him. They had better get there soon, because if he had to endure more of Skye's prattling he _would_ set Gyarados on him.

Gyarados was chortling in his head. [Would you like him frozen? An Ice Fang would be nice. How about pounded into the ground? Then an Aqua Tail would be better. But if you feel like cavorting, a Dragon Dance is the best.]

[Just chew him up.]

- x x x -

The fat man with the tomato-nose gazed out from the open flap in his tent-restaurant. A bowl of chocolate cubes with strawberry bits inside was securely nestled between his forearm and the side of his belly. Munching one and rolling it around with his tongue brought the all-familiar ache for more of his masterpieces. That creamy sensation blending with the sweetness of the crimson gems… It was perfect.

"Ah…" The man licked his lips clean and released a generous burp. He grinned at the crate in front of him and kicked it. _Numel and Sandshrew, huh?_ Both pokémon lived in the Ochre Desert just southeast, so catching them wasn't exactly much of an effort, but stealing was so much easier. And what about those Swinub? He popped another chocolate cube into his mouth and chewed slowly, allowing the melting chocolate to coat his teeth.

"The next batch should be ready." _And those Mint Berries would do nicely._


	4. Chapter 3

Author Notes  
_I don't own pokémon, not a single one of the… uh… are they 500 now, including the new forms?_

- x x x -_  
_

**CHAPTER 3**

Wade picked at his serving of steaming chicken pot pie. It was delicious, there was no doubt about it. The whitish sauce was a pleasure on the tongue, and the mix of carrots, potatoes, peppers, and other vegetables enhanced the flavor. The problem was, too many cheerless thoughts clouded his head and prevented him from fully enjoying the meal.

The Great Gardevoir was a gem of a location, for despite the hustle and bustle of the Fair outside it was surprisingly quiet and private inside. For an establishment that was just erected for the sake of the Fair, it was quite elegant. The colors came from Gardevoir: white tablecloth bordered by a soft green, white curtains that framed the few windows on the walls, light green chairs, and a polished floor composed of red slats. Small, cream-colored ceramic vases with single roses posed daintily on the tabletops. The utensils were slender and well-crafted but with little design, and they gleamed in the faint sunlight that filtered through the curtained windows.

The waiter arrived and laid down Skye's steak, well-done, with the herbed mashed potatoes and homemade gravy that he had been drooling about. Wade cleared some space for his own order, a plate of deep-fried calamari.

"Dig in!" Skye declared with relish.

Wade watched for a while as Skye demolished half the steak, assaulted the chicken pot pie, then the steak again. Wade sighed. He supposed there was no point in wasting the dish.

Just as he was about to swallow, he spotted a lanky man wearing a brown sleeveless shirt, a bandanna over his head, and mud-colored walking shoes with black shoelaces enter the restaurant. The man had a hooked nose, an angular jaw, and a mouth that seemed to be forever carved into a sneer, as if the whole world around him was nothing but a joke. Wade's eyes widened. The food stayed in his mouth. He turned away, stared at his glass of water and quickly downed it.

"Wade… are you alright?"

Wade's head jerked towards Skye.

"You're… you're shaking."

He looked at his hand, a tight, trembling fist. With effort he relaxed it and drank some more water.

"Wade, maybe—"

"I'm fine," he said, a little more roughly than he intended. "I need to use the restroom."

- x x x -

Skye watched Wade's retreating back. _What just happened? _He shifted his attention to the hook-nosed man that had just entered. Pensively chewing on his steak, the long-haired blonde watched the man amble to one of the waiters to whisper something. _Seems that Wade isn't the only one acting suspicious… _Skye tapped his fork on his chin. May as well eavesdrop. He focused his mind on the man and sent out a mental probe.

_These dang waiters didn't even prepare the cutlery!_ _And to think we paid them extra money to get the color we wanted! Stupid, now I have to wait. Waste of my time._

Skye frowned as he terminated the mental link. Cutlery? What cutlery? And why would something like that send Wade into a fit? He wished he was more skilled with mindreading; unfortunately, this department wasn't really his area of expertise as a psychic. A little irked that the man's presence had ruined the fun atmosphere that Skye was trying to build despite Wade's constant doom and gloom, he flicked his wrist.

The man fell hard on his rump. Skye snickered. The waiters quickly attended to him but he shoved them away with a snarl.

"Just give me the stupid plates!"

Skye took a worried glance towards the restroom. He had half a mind to eavesdrop again, but he decided against it. Still, he didn't need to be psychic to figure out that Wade wasn't really in there to tidy up. A strong urge to make sure that he was alright nearly pulled Skye to stand up, but he decided against that, as well. Skye knew that Wade wouldn't appreciate it, but what was he supposed to do? Just sit there worrying?

- x x x -

The faucet ran. Wade took deep, calming breaths.

That was Jacobson. He'd know that smirk anywhere. It was the same one he had worn when he had approached him and had pretended to be his friend. But the whole thing had turned out to be a ruse by his father, a trick to get him to trust the thug so the guy could slowly teach him the tricks of the thief's trade. An overheard conversation had revealed this to him, and when his naïve six-year old self had stupidly confronted the henchman, he had paid dearly for it. The price was a beating delivered by the same guy.

On his father's orders, Jacobson had also taken away his first pokémon. It was a Shellder he had found during the rare moments he could be allowed outside. He had spotted the cute little Water pokémon flapping its valves in the sand near the harbor. Eager and excited—that was how Shellder had been when it had first met him. But after a few weeks, it had contracted some disease, probably from the unsanitary environment that Wade and his mother had been forced to call home. It got worse when his father had found out. Why play with a Water pokémon when he could grow strong with a Ground one, he had asked in that grating, adipose-constricted voice that Wade had grown to fear and hate. The man had been furious when he discovered that he had kept Shellder. As if lobbing the poor Water pokémon into a trashcan hadn't been enough punishment, his father had also tied him up for days despite the tears and wails of his mother. When Wade had been freed at last, the trashcan had nothing but banana peels and shredded carton boxes.

He splashed more water into his face. This wasn't the first time he had seen familiar people like Jacobson. He had forgotten the others' names, but he could never forget their faces. He clasped Umbreon's pokéball and released the Dark pokémon, then quickly clung to it and buried his head into the other's own.

[I hate myself for this,] he cried out mentally. He was shuddering, but he didn't care. [Why do I have to be so pathetic?]

Umbreon licked his cheek. It opted not to answer.

The two stayed like that for a while. Wade wasn't sure how much time had elapsed when he placed Umbreon on the tiled floor and washed his face for the final time.

[You better get back fast,] Umbreon told him. [I have a feeling that Skye's getting worried.]

Wade bit back the acerbic reply that was becoming automatic whenever there was mention of Skye. He returned his gaze to the mirror; his face was back to how he was used to it: impassive as a Bronzong's front but with the slight feral glint of a Gyarados. Deciding to keep Umbreon out, he exited the restroom and was surprised to see Skye standing just outside.

"I was worried," Skye flat out told him in a soft voice. "The food not agree with you?"

Wade just shrugged and returned to the table, where he resumed eating as if nothing had happened. But not before stealing a glimpse of the glass display where different kinds of cakes sat in their cold abode. Wade tossed a few of the calamari to Umbreon, which chipped with satisfaction after gulping them down. Skye, done with his meal, picked at the remains of his steak quietly.

_Maybe I should get that vanilla chiffon…_ Wade thought as he took another furtive glance at the glass display. _I need something to get this stress out. Or that chocolate-strawberry mousse…_

Skye flagged the waiter for the cheque once they were done. Wade recalled Umbreon and followed Skye out the restaurant and back into the raging river of tourists.

The sun's blinding rays and oppressive heat, in addition to the body heat of everyone else tramping about in the Fair, made him thankful that he had worn light clothing. He pulled his sunglasses to his eyes and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Let's go check out more pokémon," Skye suggested excitedly. "You think we'll get to see some flying dragons? I want to see one!"

Wade simply shrugged.

A good half hour found them back in the area with myriad stalls selling pokémon. Most of the stalls were made out of hastily constructed tents and wooden pens, though a few took the time to build sturdier cement or brick enclosures for their merchandise. Streamers crowned most of the tent tops, announcements that screamed the best bargains in big red and orange letters. There remained a constant rumble that was composed of the various pokémon cries, a din that was sporadically punctured by a squawk, a roar, or a shriek. The overwhelming stench of wet fur, pokémon feed, and sometimes that of the occasional Poison pokémon like Grimer or Koffing veiled the air, and coupled with the stifling temperature, there was no doubt that only the most resilient of tourists would dare venture here. Resilient, or maniacal about pokémon. Wade thought that he and Skye belonged more to the latter category.

Wade's attention was immediately arrested by the sound of punches, and he turned to his right to see a fighting ring with two pokémon sparring: one a small humanoid creature with red eyes and ample muscle, and the other a lithe, furry one with a piggy snout and a slender tail. He was about to ask if Skye were interested in Fighting pokémon like that Machop or Mankey when he spotted the other staring rapturously at something above them. Wade looked up and saw a multitude of birds from a region called Hoenn perched on top of tall poles. There were three different species in considerable numbers: the first a diminutive blue bird with a red crest that was identified by a sign as a Taillow, the second a sleek white one with blue bands on its wings called Wingull, and the third a teal pear-shape with cottony wings called Swablu.

"You want one, sonnies?" the stall owner asked as she suddenly appeared beside them. "They all grow up into different dual types: Swellow stays the usual Normal-Flying, Pelipper's a Water-Flying, and though Swablu's part Normal now it'll eventually become a dragon called Altaria. Sweet, huh?"

"They young?" asked Skye, his gaze still upward. His eyes twinkled.

"You can pick from a range of Level 5 to 15."

Skye made a thoughtful sound. Wade went on to peruse the other shops. There seemed to be a lot of Ground pokémon here. A Wooper was happily bouncing on top of one of the clothed roofs, making its pink gills jiggle like mad. He spotted what looked like noisy overgrown thumbs sticking out from the soil in one of the pens; it turned out that the Diglett were clamoring for more food from the shop owner. In the stall beside them wandered pokémon bearing clubs and skull helmets, and blue pokémon with elongated snouts and small red plates. One of the Cubone accidentally bashed a Phanpy with its club, after which the poor pokémon let out a high-pitched yowl. Wade winced.

A cold, imaginary hand suddenly gripped his stomach. He froze. Screams erupted into the air. Skye was quickly there beside him, and he grabbed Wade's wrist and took cover behind an overturned wooden table as people rushed out in panic. Wade's eyes darted back and forth as they tried to search for the cause. He gasped as he found it.

Black shapes dive-bombed into the stalls. The tents collapsed as the poles were knocked out. Shelves of items crashed to the ground. Confused by the chaos, the pokémon being sold darted off to where they thought was safe. Frightened shrieks and angry bellows crammed into the air. A piercing caw sliced through the tumult, and more followed. Wade knew those sounds, but he could not believe it.

_Why are Murkrow attacking the Fair?_

"Wade, stay here," Skye urgently said. He crawled out from the table and released Gliscor, as well as an impressive bird with strong talons, a deadly curved beak, and handsome plumage on its head and tail. Wade had seen Skye's Pidgeot very few times, but in those rare moments he was able to ascertain that the bird was well trained and more than capable of taking down a rampaging gaggle of Murkrow.

Gliscor and Pidgeot launched into work. Simultaneously flapping their wings, the two released twin Wing Attacks as if executing a planned choreography onstage. Seeing these two pokémon, other trainers released their own and began fending off the assaulting black birds. Wade watched from under the table as other spectators produced empty pokéballs and hurled them at the Dark- Flying creatures.

"Skye, behind you!"

Skye leapt forward. Seconds later a black form crash into where he had been. Skye flashed Wade a thumbs-up sign, to which the latter only frowned. Wade's mouth was dry; he couldn't understand why a huge wave of relief had immediately washed over him.

It wasn't long before the birds fled in a flurry of ebony feathers and indignant squawks. The shop owners waved angry fists and hurled colorful insults at the retreating pokémon, with the shoppers immediately following suit. Skye, though, refrained from doing anything else aside from surveying the area for any more of the pugnacious pokémon, after which he slowly recalled his Pidgeot and Gliscor. He offered a hand to Wade, who was too immersed in his own thoughts to notice. Wade crawled out and let his eyes wander to search for clues. Why had those pokémon gone berserk?

His hearing focused on the enraged snarl of a shopkeeper, who began ranting about the Murkrow—evil troublemakers that didn't belong in the Fair; it was their fault that he couldn't find his Swinub in their pens. More shopkeepers called for the pokémon that had scampered for safety, but to no avail. A customer cried out that those wild Murkrow should all be hunted down and kept in cages for the rest of their miserable lives.

Wade, though, couldn't have disagreed more to such cruelty—must be that love of his for Dark types. But that wasn't the only thing bothering him. Those empty pokéballs that some clever individuals had flung had bounced right off the Murkrow.

Which meant that someone owned them.

"We'd better get going before things heat up and the police get here," Skye said softly in Wade's ear. Wade followed after a last glance at the scene; even that Wooper jumping up and down the tent roof wasn't there anymore.

He went after Skye into an alley that was a lot quieter than the main streets, where no idiotic dancing Ludicolo or performing Mr. Mime could disturb them. Wade leaned against the brick, mortared wall and burrowed his hands in his pockets as he looked out at the milling throng.

"They'd probably try to use psychics if there aren't enough clues lying around," Skye voiced quietly, "like what they did last time when a salesman lost a bunch of Leppa Berries to a shoplifter. Clairvoyants and the like." He peered into the main street then sat on his haunches, his back against the wall. He stared at the opposite wall with a thoughtful frown. "Wonder what made those Murkrow go ballistic like that?"

Wade didn't hear the question. His eyes were pinned to the ground. An orange peel lay there beside the wall, which was full of the crudely painted smiling faces of Hoppip and Ledyba, pokémon that inhabited the plains outside town. The faint stench of decaying vegetables skulked among the trashcans that stonily stood not far from where they were.

"What were you doing, going out into that fray?" Wade muttered. Skye's eyes widened a little in puzzlement. "If you got hurt, it'd be me dragging your sorry carcass back to the mart."

Skye chuckled. He looked up at the slit of clouds that was formed by the top of the opposite buildings, as if the appropriate response were there. "No worries! I can take care of myself."

Wade scowled. "What a moron."

"Besides, I did say that I'd protect you, didn't I?"

For the second time that day, Wade's head jerked towards Skye. Those words were an echo from the past…

A long pause seemed to make the noises of excited tourists too loud. It was Skye who broke it first. "C'mon," he said as he softly rapped his fist at Wade's shoulder. "I heard that there were a lot of Water pokémon stalls near the harbor." At Wade's raised eyebrows, he laughed. "I know you like Water pokémon; those books that you keep borrowing at the library prove it."

Wade glowered at him. "Besides being a moron, you're a snoop, too."

"Hey! I can't exactly snoop when they're just lying around on your bed! We _do _share rooms, you know."

Still arguing, the two walked out of the alley.

- x x x -

Allison Andies sat down in the storeroom of the mart with a cup of coffee in his hands and a television on the table in front of him. He inhaled the sweet, bitter aroma before taking a satisfying sip, after which he placed the cup back on the saucer. With some effort he shut out the noises of shoppers as they perused the shelves and lined up at the counter outside the storeroom. Not a full day yet into the fair, and he already felt like he had been trampled over by a jolly bunch of Phanpy that had sighted a feast in his arms. Some of those kids could be so exuberant! He mentally tallied the first few things that had been cleaned out and realized that they were mostly King's Rocks and Water Stones. Not that he should have been surprised; his was the only store in the entire Fair that constantly had a good supply of them. For the first day, anyway.

"This just in," the female reporter on TV said. For a fleeting moment that brought a pang in his chest, he became aware of his wife as an image of her came into focus on the television. Her straight, shiny brown hair that ended in wonderful curls that rested on her slim shoulders, her turquoise, intelligent eyes, her rich, full lips… He shook his head. This reporter had curly auburn hair and too voluptuous a body. "A gaggle of Murkrow attacked stalls and caused havoc in the square near the Ebony Library. It's not known why the fearsome beasts…"

Fearsome beasts? Murkrow were black-feathered pokémon only about a foot tall, and she called them fearsome beasts. Well, Allison supposed that a whole bunch of them punching holes into the roof, toppling tent posts, and scattering the pokémon merchandise could give such an impression. But he knew that Wade would disapprove of the label. He took another sip from his coffee and sighed.

"… the police are investigating the matter. The local individuals who possess extransensory perception, popularly known as psychics, have also been called in to scrutinize the area in case they could intuit some lead to the case…"

The woman sounded as if calling in the psychics was a complete waste of time, and Allison couldn't blame her. He was quite familiar with these kinds of people; the best they could sometimes do was come up with vague visions and sketchy descriptions. And besides, not all psychics were actually skilled in that kind of clairvoyance; some specialized in the psychokinetic aspect such as telekinesis, the ability to move objects with one's mind, while others had more of the subtle type such as empathy, the ability to project emotions and be rather sensitive to those of others.

Allison would know. He contemplatively held his cup a finger's width away from his face so he could leisurely inhale the vapors of his coffee.

After all, his own sons were psychics.

His cell phone trilled in a futile attempt to imitate a Dodrio. He fished the communication device from his pocket and clicked it on.

"Yes?"

"Allison," a voice dripping with disdain greeted. "I think the mailmen have had their whims going haywire these days. It seems that they now like delivering packages to the wrong pokémart. I never knew you were the type to send your own supplies to a rival store."

Allison's eyebrows indignantly rose up to his hairline, but he tried to maintain an accommodating tone. "Come now, Mr. Higgins. There's a Fair going on, and it's possible that the mailmen simply bungled the job. You can't blame them in the midst of all this mayhem, can you?"

"Well, then I suppose you won't blame me as well if I'm not able to take good care of it. I have a pokémart to run, you know. Send over one of your boys."

Odious man. Count on a rival pokémart owner to be so neighborly. "I'll… get it myself."

"Short on hand these days?" Allison could already imagine the patronizing sneer on the man's gaunt face. "Where _is_ prosperity when you need it?" The other line then clicked shut.

_I wouldn't mind having it shoved up your ass_, Allison thought sourly. _I may as well get the silly thing._

He stood up and finished the cup as he returned the cell phone to his pocket. Clicking the television off, he felt a sliver of worry knot up in his stomach. He certainly hoped that the boys hadn't been around when that gaggle of Murkrow had attacked. He knew that they were already teens and that they could take care of themselves, but still…

It certainly was a parent's job to worry, wasn't it?

- x x x -

Author's Notes_  
What do you guys think?__ Just let me run to a bomb shelter first. :D _


	5. Chapter 4

Author's Notes  
_I don't own pokémon… if I did I'd be working on the next game instead of this. :D_

- x x x -_  
_

**CHAPTER 4**

The sun remained a relentless blazing globe in the sky, and its rays beat down on the island with seemingly renewed force. A new sound joined the cacophony of the Pokémon Fair: a soft rushing that Wade never failed to enjoy. It told him that the sea, its now quiet waves lapping at the shore like a famished creature, was nearby.

The beach was set in three layers; the first being the cemented boardwalk full of stalls, the next being the sand where a few recliners and beach umbrellas could be found, and the last being the expanse of the sea. The cemented path held no palm trees to serve as landmarks of some tropical paradise; they had been replaced by lampposts and other structures of rock, cement, and electricity that denoted the hand of industrialization. The sands glistened in the noon sun, and their treasures, children's footsteps and small empty seashells, played hide and seek among the white grains. The sea reached out to the horizon where it eternally rendezvoused with the sky. Wade stopped a moment to gaze at the quiet blue, and he felt a little peace envelope him.

"Mystic Water from the Johto seas!"

"Hurry, hurry, hurry! While our bargains still last! The cheapest Dive Balls you can find!"

"Chinchou! Yes, ladies and gents, Chinchou that we personally Dived for!"

"Rare Staryu for only five thousand!"

"Horsea necklaces! Azurill necklaces!"

Wade glowered at the salesmen. So much for peace. He sauntered over to the nearest shop, a wooden booth with a few items, and absent-mindedly pored over them. Skye followed behind him as the long-haired boy scanned the merchandise with a mildly interested eye. Bikers passed by, as this was perhaps the only place left in town that was wide enough for a bicycle to go through without being bulldozed by a crowd. Clutching balloons with Marill faces drawn on them, children giggled and ran around in the sand, oblivious to their parents, who were also checking out the wares. Several ice cream vendors rang their bells as they pushed their carts.

The two reached a slightly large shop with the words "Bert's Berry Bonanza" displayed on top in straight bold letters. Wade lackadaisically looked over the variable fruits as he heard the saleslady mention to a woman—who had enough baubles to supply a jewelry store—that they were out of Mint Berries, and that the Higgins pokémart was the reliable place to procure some. Followed by a Delcatty that looked as prim as its owner with its spotless pink and yellow fur and bud-like tail, the lady left the store in a huff.

"What was that all about?" Skye mumbled.

The next stall was paradise. It had to be the biggest Water pokémon store Wade had ever seen! Giant aquariums surrounded the perimeter of the makeshift wooden store, and in the center were numerous pens. Wade rushed over to the aquariums and gingerly placed his hands on the glass. Tentacool, their soft blue bodies nearly blending in with the color of the water, floated lazily near the surface of the water. Cute Horsea peered outside with wide innocent eyes, while Goldeen paced slowly in their watery abodes as they made sure that their long, graceful fins could be seen. Qwilfish rolled around the water as Barboach avoided their poisonous spikes with their small, sleek forms.

Wade then leaned over the wooden fence that enclosed the corrals in the middle of the store. He reached out with his hand for a star-shaped pokémon with a beautiful red gem emitting a soft light in its center, but the Staryu remained motionless. Seel clapped their fins and barked unceasingly, while their close relatives, Spheal, rolled around and enjoyed being flung in the air by the Seel's noses. Gurgling loudly with froth issuing from their mouths, Krabby skittered and snapped their razor-sharp claws. As if being besieged by the biggest migraines of their lives, Psyduck sat motionlessly with their webbed hands clutching their round heads. Wooper lay down on their bellies and wiggled the gills at the sides of their heads. There were a lot more, and Wade was content to just see them play around.

Or maybe not. Why not buy one?

With a deep look of concentration on his face, Wade alternated between looking at the pens and at the aquariums. Where should he choose a new pokémon? The pens, or the aquariums?

He just didn't know!

- x x x -

Skye had a big grin on his face. And it was difficult to wipe it off, what with Wade moving around the store like an eager child who had spotted racks of candy.

"How's business on the first day?" he asked the shopkeeper, who was diligently brushing a Psyduck. It quacked in delight.

"I'm dead beat!" the old, wrinkled man replied cheerfully. "Thank goodness I have help now; I don't know what I could have done without Jack and Mary Ann, there." He pointed at two ten-year olds occupied with feeding the playful Seel and Spheal. "The little fellas are having an easy time giving the critters food; especially since I've switched recipes." He jabbed a gnarled finger into the air and shook it back and forth. "Never, _ever_ feed a pokémon with a Mint Berry flavor, or they'll go mad with the great smell. Mint Berries give their food a strong aroma, so remember that."

Skye glanced at the olive-haired children, who were giggling at the antics of the lively pokémon. Two Seel were playing catch with a spherical Spheal, which was barking in delight. "Your kids?"

"Nephew and niece. You gonna buy something?"

Skye chuckled. "I'm just waiting for my friend over there to make up his mind. He loves the little Water types."

"Something we have in common… Oh, Sandra, you're here," the old man greeted a bony woman wearing a leather apron and purple gloves. Her white hair was done in a bun held in place by what Skye thought were giant sewing needles. "What is it now? I don't have time to listen to your yakking—"

"Herman! I know you have them! Just this morning I placed a blue plastic bag of pokéballs containing _all_ my Barboach near _your_ feed sacks. Now they're gone!"

"But I've been busy with the kids the whole morning!" the old shopkeeper protested. "We don't have time rummaging through plastic bags and snatching them, or whatever it is you're accusing me of! You probably misplaced the darn thing."

"Excuse me—" Wade began.

"Not now!" the two shopkeepers growled in unison.

Skye had a bad feeling as Wade's face darkened. The younger boy put down a Horsea on the counter, right in between the feuding shopkeepers, promptly stopping them. In quick succession he snatched a sheaf of documents behind the counter, looked for the pokémon's price, pushed the papers into the old man's hands, fished money from his pockets, then slammed the bills on the counter. One of the kids—Mary Ann, Skye remembered her name was—handed Wade a pokéball with an adorable smile on her rosy face. Afterwards, Wade stomped out of the room, leaving the two dealers to stare at him with their jaws hanging open. Skye just laughed and grinned nervously at them.

Excited squealing from the Wooper in the pens caught his attention. When Jack opened the pen gate to leave, all ten of them tromped out and outside the shop. Wade gaped at the Water-Ground pokémon as they passed by him.

"I'll get them back," he said.

"I'll help!" Skye said as he jogged outside. He released his Jumpluff, a blue ball of cuteness with three cottony balls attached to it and ordered a Sleep Powder. The green particles caught up with four of the escapees, promptly incapacitating them. He was about to ask Wade where the others went when his hackles rose.

Wade seemed rooted to where he was standing and unable to move. He was staring at something in the distance. His face suddenly contorted. A snarl ripped out from his throat. He tore through the crowd like a Weavile after prey, undeterred by indignant cries as people were pushed out of the way.

"Wade!" Skye was about to sprint after him when he spotted two of the Wooper eating something on the sand.

"Go on, boy," the old shopkeeper said from behind him. "We've got these two covered. Something's got your friend's riled up. Go on after him."

Skye nodded at him. "Thank you." [Jumpluff, after him!]

[Right!]

[Try not to lose him. Never mind if I don't catch up; I know where you'll be, anyway. Go!]

The little puffball whizzed through the air. Skye took a look at the throng before him and decided that he was going to get nowhere if he chose to swim through that. He quickly surveyed the buildings and was glad that there were enough rooftops. He darted in between the stalls, prayed that he wouldn't be seen, and, with a little telekinetic shove from his mind vaulted up the first building.

[Skye, what's happening?] Pidgeot asked in his mind.

[Wade bolted off,] he answered frantically. The next rooftop was a bit far, but he had no time for careful estimation of distances. [Something's wrong. He… he just… changed. It's as if he were driven by some demon to run.] He jumped and landed on the next roof. He felt the rush of wind as he resumed chase. [Pidgeot, I need you to help me look for him. What he did's too much of a reaction for a bunch of escaped Wooper.] Skye hurled its pokéball.

[I'm surprised you didn't release me sooner,] Pidgeot replied as its figure coalesced from the pokéball's red light. Taking wing, it rushed forward.

[Jumpluff's searching to my right, maybe you should go a bit farther.]

[Things will be fine, Skye,] Gliscor's gravelly mental voice assured him.

Skye peered down to the left side of the rooftop. No sign of Wade. He checked the other sides; he wasn't in any of them. He vaulted to the next perch, a tall wooden pole that held up yellow tent, then up to another roof.

It was on the next building top that he spotted Wade, around the same time that Jumpluff called out a [He's here!] to him. Skye summoned Pidgeot to his side with his mind. He hopped on the great bird and descended into the narrow alley to a spot a few feet to Wade's side.

"Wade," Skye began as he leapt off Pidgeot.

"He's mine."

Skye stopped. Wade' voice was a frozen knife. Appraising the situation was probably the best thing to do right now, so he let his gaze wander. To the left was a gangly man with a brown sleeveless shirt, a bandanna, mud-colored shoes with laces, and a bag slung over his shoulder. The bag did little to conceal the fact that whatever was inside it was struggling its hardest to get free. Skye stared. It was the man from the Great Gardevoir!

"You saw it, blast it!" he growled. Using his free hand he hurled a pokéball and brought forth a Diglett.

Skye watched as Wade released his newly acquired Horsea into the battle. He was about to ask why he didn't bring out something more powerful like his Slowbro when he realized that the Diglett wasn't really accustomed to battles; it showed in how the Ground pokémon kept glancing back nervously at its trainer.

_So Wade really does have a kind side,_ he thought in wonder. Or maybe he just recognized that this was also a good opportunity to train his new acquisitions. But that still did nothing for the lump in Skye's throat. He looked at the bag again and was willing to bet his whole allowance that it held captive the Wooper that had escaped.

"Horsea, Bubble."

"Diglett, Scratch attack!"

With its tail acting as a makeshift pogo stick, Horsea bounced off to its left and launched a flurry of bubbles. Surprised, the Ground pokémon took the attack head on and was stunned, but only for a moment. With a speed that rivaled a Water pokémon moving in the sea, it dug its way to Horsea and clawed its face. Horsea squeaked and bounced back, but it glared at its opponent resolutely.

"Nice work, Horsea," Wade said softly. "One more Bubble."

"Growl at it, Diglett!" the gangly man barked.

Diglett didn't have time to execute the Growl; it fell into a dizzy heap after the last bubble popped on it.

"Don't have that sneer now, do you, Jacobson?" Wade taunted softly.

Jacobson stared wildly at him. Skye saw him swallow before releasing another pokémon: a small but unyielding rock with arms, a Rock-Ground type known as Geodude.

"How… how'd you know who I am?" Skye could have asked the same question.

"Bubble," Wade ordered.

Horsea bounced again and fired a volley of bubbles, pushing the slower pokémon backward. Geodude teetered unsteadily for a while. Jacobson snapped out a nervous "Rock Polish!" and the Rock-Ground pokémon began glinting as if it had been fully enveloped by the rays of the sun. Now faster, Geodude rushed Horsea in a Tackle that the Water pokémon failed to evade.

Skye noticed that Wade wasn't fazed at all; there remained that self-possessed veneer that he wore despite Horsea's tired countenance; a façade that, to Skye's eyes, barely contained a wintry rage about to go out of control.

Horsea countered with another Bubble attack, and that ended the battle. Geodude clunked down and stopped moving.

Jacobson swung around and made for an escape, but Skye acted before that could happen and before Wade could do something rash. He flung his arms out; the man's shoelaces quickly untied themselves and bound his feet together. He crashed down and let go of the bag, but before Skye could catch it Wade was already telekinetically floating it safely into his arms.

[Sit on that man, Pidgeot.]

[I'll lay an egg on him, too.] Pidgeot bounded the distance between it and Jacobson and promptly nested itself on the man's back. Jacobson struggled and snarled, but a good peck on the head kept him quiet.

Skye slowly walked over to Wade. He couldn't see the other's eyes; his hair covered them and his head was turned down. Skye bent down and carried Horsea into his arms and patted the tired Water pokémon on the head.

"Horsea was amazing, Wade," he said.

Wade didn't answer. His arms were still around the bag.

Skye offered Horsea back to the other. Wade exchanged the bag then rubbed his fingers under Horsea's head. It squeaked contentedly.

"The police?" Skye asked. Wade simply nodded.

Skye fished out his cellphone from his side pocket and called the police station. After an exuberant greeting by Officer Kerrick Malone, a bearded forty-year old with a belly to rival that of a Snorlax, Skye proceeded to giving him a short and detailed account of what happened, beginning with their visit in the Water pokémon shop and all the way to the battle. Officer Malone was a good buddy of the Andies family; whenever the burly man felt like training the Geodude he used for police-work he usually bought his supplies from their pokémart. As Skye narrated the events, he noticed Wade walk over to Jacobson, stare at him for a moment, then pick up something beside him.

"But what would prompt those Wooper to go out like that, Skye?" Office Malone asked. "What, all of them just felt like having a stroll?"

"I don't know myself, Officer. You'll have to ask the shopkeeper."

"Anyway, thanks, Skye. Give me fifteen minutes to get there."

"Will do. We'll keep the guy tied up."

Jumpluff hovered to him then stared at Wade. He had almost forgotten about the puffball. Skye rubbed its head and thanked it for its efforts earlier. It chirruped and smiled, then drifted to Wade and took a peek at what he was holding. Skye followed its example.

It was a pink glob of… something. With an overpowering smell. Not unpleasant by any means, just… overpowering. Horsea sniffed at it and chirped what seemed to be an inquiry. Without waiting for an answer, it quickly sucked the thing into its snout and burped.

"Aaaaah!" Skye found his finger pointing at the little monster. "It ate it! Now we don't have anything to show Officer Malone!"

"Relax, you idiot," Wade muttered as he bent and picked up another pink glob of… something. Skye found out that the source seemed to be Jacobson's pockets. He picked one up and sniffed.

"… Food?"

"Obviously why Horsea ate it."

Skye grimaced. "I don't want my food to smell this strong. It smells… minty. Like peppermint."

"Aren't you going to ask how I knew this thug?"

That quiet query was laced with an emotion that Skye couldn't identify. Or perhaps he was scared to find out what that emotion was. Wade's eyes remained down on the ground. He had wrapped his arms tighter around Horsea, which looked up at him and chirped a concerned note.

Why did he have to look like the burden of the entire world rested on his shoulders? His chest ached for him. No one had the right to carry that weight!

Skye sat on his haunches and untied the bag. Four blue adorable faces with pink gills stared up at him in confusion.

"We'll get you guys back to your owner in a while," he told them with a smile. "Stay put for now." He placed his hand reassuringly on one of their heads. It produced a high-pitched squeak that Skye interpreted as an "Okay." He wished he could communicate with these critters just as well as he did with his own pokémon.

[Say something.]

Skye looked at the other. This was the first time Wade had spoken to him in his mind. Their powers were something they had never talked about, not to Dad, not to anyone else in Ebony, not even to each other.

"I don't like asking people uncomfortable things," Skye replied softly. "If it hurts too much to talk about, then you don't have to force yourself." [You'll tell someone when you're ready.] Then, with a little more daring, he continued, [You're no criminal, Wade. That much I believe.]

The silence that followed could not have been more awkward. Skye settled for returning his Jumpluff to its pokéball and leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He drowned in relief when Officer Malone, in a short-sleeved white polo shirt and khaki pants, came jogging to them with his Geodude thumping behind him.

"Good job, you two," he said in a voice that sounded like rocks rubbing together. "That him?"

"Yes sir." Wade no longer looked like a lost child. He showed the officer the pink pokémon food. "We found these in his pockets."

"And these are the stolen pokémon," Skye said as he swept a hand over the Wooper.

"I'm innocent—" Jacobson began exclaiming, but Pidgeot pecked him into silence. "Ow!"

"Well, we'd better drop by the shop to interview the shopkeeper," Officer Malone said as he brought out a pair of handcuffs. He jerked Jacobson's arms out from underneath Pidgeot's body and bound them. Pidgeot then hopped off and preened.

[They'll know that one of them was caught,] Wade mentally told Skye.

[… They?] Wade's intense gaze was unsettling.

[They have henchmen everywhere. They know every policeman who works here in Ebony. They'll know that Jacobson was caught if they see Officer Malone with him.]

Skye didn't realize he had stopped walking until a particularly noisy gaggle of teenage girls jostled him out of the way. For that matter, he didn't even notice that they had already gone out into the main streets. Officer Malone, who had taken the lead and was pulling a hopping Jacobson, looked back at them and gestured for them to hurry up. When Skye looked back to check on Wade, he felt a cold, iron hand grip his insides. Wade wasn't following anymore. He was just there standing a few feet behind, gazing back with a face as unreadable as a rock.

Skye swallowed. [Wade… please. Don't do anything reckless.] _Don't put me through that again._ Though meant for Wade, he kept that last thought to himself. [We can let the police handle this. If something criminal is going on in the Fair, then it's not our business to dabble in it.]

A plump lady with a feathered hat walked past Wade. Then he was just gone. Skye felt his breath stop.

_No... No!_ He searched for any sign of him, hoped that his eyes were only playing tricks. But Wade had really disappeared.

He gasped when his hand was violently hauled forward.

"Move it, you moron. I don't want to drag your remains back just because you got caught in a stampede while staring like the world had crumbled. And when _are_ you going to recall Pidgeot? That featherhead's going to make trainers look for its owner, and the last thing we need are more battles."

Skye wanted to faint. He found Pidgeot hovering a couple of feet above him. He quickly brought out the Normal-Flying pokémon's pokéball and returned it.

[Featherhead?] Pidgeot's tone was amused. Skye laughed nervously.

[I have to do this.] Wade's mental voice was obstinate. He maintained that firm, Kingler-like grip on his forearm as the two followed Officer Malone. Not once did Wade look back at him.

Skye bit his tongue and willed his brain _not_ to ask why.

[Don't get in my way if you plan on coming with me.]

Skye should have been stung at that, but for some odd reason he wasn't. That cold hand gripping his insides was gone, but it had been replaced by flutters in his stomach.

A million questions came unbidden to his mind. Did Wade really know these thugs? How was he connected to them? And what was Wade going to do with them? Was he finally going to get a glimpse of Wade's shrouded past, one that had been off-limits for the past seven years?

- x x x -

"Tarnation!" the tomato-nosed man roared. "You're telling me that we're out of Mint Berries?"

The henchman before him quaked. The scrawny underling wiped the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his tan-colored apron. The heat of the kitchens wasn't the sole cause of his perspiration. "Jacobson got the last batch of the pokémon food. Then Teller got the batch before that so he could swipe this last load." He placed his shuddering hand on a bag of wailing Cubone sitting on the table beside the chocolate-filled bowls. Their struggling had knocked off one of those bowls, which had shattered and had added brown splotches to the dirty yellow of the tiled floor.

The fat chef grumbled. He pensively tapped the rolling pin in his left hand onto the table edge. "We've got to get more."

The henchman gulped. "But Boss, where are we getting more of the stuff?"

The chef laughed. He grabbed a chocolate chunk from the nearest tray and tossed it into his mouth. "Would you believe, a certain pokémart?"

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_Tell me what you think. But please be gentle. :D_


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Notes_  
I'll have to post this again so that people don't get confused._

_Sentences enclosed in brackets are thoughts being telepathically transmitted. The ones italicized are generally the character's private thoughts, while those in the usual quotation marks denote someone talking._

_I don't own pokémon. But I can't wait for Platinum (English). :)__ I wonder when and how the goat gets legal?_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 5**

The door of a pokémart opened with the jingling of wind chimes. Allison Andies stepped in, looked around, and got his first impression: the Higgins pokémart was as neat as his own. The shelves and racks were all arrayed in orderly lines, and each had several small compartments that contained the costlier items such as Charcoals, which powered up Fire attacks, and Focus Bands, which decreased the chances of a pokémon fainting once its energy was depleted. Despite the number of people coming in and out, not a speck of dust could be seen on the polished blue floor, and the counter, which was a couple of meters before Allison, showed no signs of filth, either. It even seemed that the walls had been given a new coating of paint; it used to be that those cream-colored walls were a light blue.

The owner of the pokémart, Larry Higgins, was a middle-aged man with jet-black hair, a pointed nose and chin, and beady brown eyes. He stood behind the counter with a clipboard in one hand and a pencil on the other. When the man spotted Allison, he raised an eyebrow at him and whispered to a teenager, who nodded and headed into what Allison supposed was the storage room. Higgins then approached him with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Finally here. I asked someone to get the package from the storage room. Do have a look around." He then excused himself as a customer called his attention.

Allison occupied himself with scrutinizing the pokémon merchandise and comparing the stock with his own. There were a lot of valuable accessories here, particularly vitamins that upgraded the base stats of a pokémon. However, the store had a general lack in evolution items, an edge he had over Higgins. That the Andies pokémart had an abundance of them was heavily due to Wade, who often went to the seaside to collect King's Rocks from Slowpoke and Water Stones from under water.

"Here you are, sir," a boy said as he handed over a parcel the size of a Drowzee. He suppressed a frown as his nose caught a sharp odor that had to be coming from the white box. Allison wished that the storeroom had not held all those Mint Berries. It was a smell he really could do without.

"Thanks. I'll just see myself out the door, then." He opened the door and was nearly run over by a portly man with a pudgy, ruddy nose and rather abundant facial hair. It was obvious that he was some sort of chef, what with the hat and the apron being dead giveaways. Not bothering to express his indignation, Allison walked back toward his own pokémart.

- x x x -

Chef Hotnoser looked at the pokémart in disgust. Everything was inappropriately too neat in this place; there wasn't even a speck of dust that corroborated that someone had been here. How could a store be properly called a store without the grime? He certainly wouldn't set up his kitchen in this too tidy hole. He looked for the owner of the pokémart and saw a skeleton of a man with a clipboard. No doubt an inventory; more of his orderliness.

"Well, well, look what the Meowth brought in," Larry said as he approached him. He distastefully glanced at the chef's henchmen, who were clad in nothing more than dirty khaki pants—the oil stains were from the restaurant—loose beige vests, and shabby leather sandals. "I haven't seen you in a while, Hotnoser."

"I need your stock of Mint Berries, Pin-Face."

A muscle twitched in Larry's cheek. "Oh, that could be arranged. I hope you can afford the price—"

"It's for the Consable Clan."

The pokémart owner's condescending smile dropped out of his face, along with any remaining traces of emotion. Hotnoser could have laughed as he heard the gears turn in Mr. Higgins's head. He always _was_ business-minded.

"That's surprising. You never mentioned anything about a Clan in all my years of knowing you. I suppose I should consider this as a business proposal, am I correct?"

Hotnoser simply grinned.

- x x x -

"What are we doing here again?" Skye asked.

He and Wade had brought back the stolen Wooper along with Officer Malone to the shop near the beach. After a profuse thank you from the wrinkled old shopkeeper, Wade had asked the policeman if he and Skye could leave the thief to him; after all, they had already given their side of the story. Furthermore, if more questions were in order, there was always the shopkeeper and the two kids to provide answers. Without bothering to accommodate Officer Malone's reply, he had dragged Skye off into an especially rowdy group of trainers who were whooping and catcalling over a match between a Gengar and a Flareon so that the policeman wouldn't be able to follow them easily. Skye nearly got burned by an Ember attack in the process.

Wade and Skye were currently in the town square, with its mortared sidewalks, cemented narrow streets, and the central fountain, a sculpture of Shellder shooting spouts into the air. A black lamppost stood on each corner of the square, and Wade spotted a pink, soft-bodied slug crawling up one of them. _What are those things?_ he thought, a little in amazement. It looked like a Water pokémon, but he had never seen one before. He found out its name when one of the shopkeepers came scrambling to it and plucked it from the lamppost, with a relieved, "So there you are, Shellos! I was looking all over for you!"

In between the unlit lampposts were more booths that showcased more pokémon. Wade walked along the northern side of the square and stroked the head of another Shellos. It felt squishy and wet, like damp socks. Beside it were a bunch of Geodude that were blissfully unaware of their surroundings as they arm-wrestled with each other. Moving on to the next stall, Wade observed that it had a number of pokéballs displayed on a wooden table, with a big warning sign that said in hastily scribbled letters, "DO NOT OPEN." One customer, a ten-year old boy who probably hadn't read the sign, took one and released the pokémon inside, only to be blasted by a whipping stream of sand that quickly spread out to the whole square. Surprised screams became audible through the rush of the wind. A pokémon with wide eyes, a large mouth, and a round body colored in different shades of brown blinked at the onslaught, which vanished just as quickly as it appeared once the shopkeeper recalled the pokémon. The cross shopkeeper then pointed the sign to the boy, who shook off the sand from his clothes and grinned sheepishly.

"What was that?" asked Skye, looking a bit dazed. "A sandstorm?"

"And that's why I told Roscoe to hide the silly pokéballs," Wade heard one of the other stall owners say. "Those young Hippopotas don't know enough not to use that Sandstream ability of theirs when they aren't battling." The other shopkeepers chortled.

Wade dusted off the sand from his clam diggers then continued looking at the other booths as if nothing had happened.

The next one had a cluster of Swinub that, to Wade' recall, some flustered lady shopkeepers a while ago had referred to as "scooting pincushions." Of course, said flustered lady shopkeepers had been running after the tiny things like madwomen. More pokémon came into view, and they had one thing in common: they were all of the Ground type, one that the Consable Clan highly esteemed.

Wade Consable… That was his real name, wasn't it? Though now, everyone knew him as Wade Andies.

Wade gazed at the array of Ground types that this part of the Fair was selling. He was no longer sure if the disappearances of pokémon around the shops were just the outcome of careless hired help. Wait, on the contrary, he _should_ have known that the Clan would come up with something like this. Sandshrew. Numel. Swinub. Barboach. Wooper. They all had one thing in common: they were all targets for a Consable heist.

What didn't fit at all in the puzzle, though, were the Murkrow. The Consable Clan only used Ground types, and the black birds hardly fulfilled the qualities that the Clan prized with such pokémon: primarily solid defense, and secondly powerful physical attack. His frequent reading at the library told him this much: Murkrow were okay with offense, but their guard could use a little work.

Using strong-smelling food to lure Ground pokémon out of the shops and into the waiting hands of Consable menials, along with a little thievery of crates containing pokéballs with Ground pokémon. It certainly wasn't the orthodox way of executing crime. Wade knew of only one man in the organization brain-damaged enough to conceive such an inane plan.

The chef.

"Wade… why are we here again?"

[You could be nice and tell him, you know,] Umbreon suggested.

[It's not my job to be nice. Besides, it was the idiot himself who wanted to come along.]

[He wanted to go with you because he was worried about you,] Slowking pointed out gently.

[I don't need anyone worrying about me.]

There was only a skeptical silence on their side. He hated it when they did that.

"They'll be here," he said quietly.

Wade felt Skye come closer. "Why?"

His eyes roved left and right in an attempt to spot anything suspicious. "All the Ground types they can steal."

"… Why Ground types?"

"Because that's what they use." His ears perked as he heard a little girl squeal in delight. Then he heard another loud sound, but when he turned he just saw a couple of shopkeepers engaged in a game of chess, and one of them had apparently won. One of the stall owners was talking to her helpers about obtaining more feed from their storage rooms in the back.

It rattled Wade's nerves and annoyed him to no end that he wasn't sure what to expect!

[Wade…] Skye asked telepathically. Even in Wade's mind he could feel his hesitation. [Who are _they_?]

That was when he heard an all-too familiar clangor. Stalls collapsed. Tables toppled. People screamed. Potions and Antidotes crashed to the cemented street, and all around black shapes sped and smashed into racks and counters. From the corner of his eye, Wade spotted a Swinub scoot into an alley, and another blindly dash behind an overturned table. He snatched a pokéball from his belt, but Skye held down his forearm.

[I'll take care of this. Don't move.]

"Don't be stupid!" Wade snarled as he jerked his forearm free. He bounded forward but stopped short as the Murkrow abruptly ceased their attack and hovered in their places. The Dark-Flying pokémon were all guardedly gazing at one spot, and when he turned around there was nothing or no one there. Only that idiot, Skye, who was still not moving.

… Skye?

Wade stepped back, away from him. He was doing something. He was sure of it. But what? What could he possibly do? This wasn't something that psychics were capable of, unless he was manipulating all those Murkrow with telekinesis. Before more questions could fill his mind enough to make it explode, the soot-colored birds cawed and flapped away. Wade stared at their retreating backs.

[Follow them!] Umbreon cried. The Dark pokémon's mental voice snapped him out of shock. He ran into an alley after one of the birds, but he didn't get far. Skye was suddenly there in front of him, his arms folded calmly in front of his chest.

"Get out of my way," Wade said softly, his voice a blade being unsheathed.

"Relax. No matter where those Murkrow go, I'll know where they are." Skye smiled at him in a reassuring kind of way. Wade fumed. Ambling off into the other direction, Skye beckoned for him to follow.

_Yeah, right. May as well search for a shiny Shellder in the ocean than rely on him tracing those Murkrow. I'll have bigger luck with the former. That conceited, big-headed, water-clogged moron!_ Yet he found his traitorous feet moving.

"Shouldn't we be hurrying?" he asked sullenly.

"Nah. Even if they change locations, I'll still know where they are." Skye suddenly turned right, and stepped into cadence behind a troop of children, each child holding onto the front kid's shoulders.

"I don't believe you."

But instead of refuting that pronouncement, Skye simply laughed. No malice, no skepticism of his own, no resentment. Just plain _infuriatingly_ laughed.

"We'll find them, or at least the owner of that Murkrow. That much I can promise."

_Don't make promises you can't keep_, Wade thought vehemently.

It was difficult to discern if the path they were taking was the insane meander of someone who didn't know his way or the purposeful stride of one who did. Wade wondered why he was still following. Not that he could ditch him; besides, he had already lost sight of those Murkrow. Might as well go with this ridiculous Farfetch'd chase.

Wade was still berating himself for being such a fool to follow him when they came across a clearing with a coffee-colored tent that was held up by thick white poles and was probably big enough to house an entire zoo. Oddly enough, there were no signs to give a clue about what kind of establishment the tent was. Could be a pokémon store, an arcade, a venue for a tournament, or a dull-colored circus for all Wade knew. It was here that Skye stopped, though.

"In there?" Wade asked, one eyebrow up.

"Uh-huh."

Still looking at Skye askance, Wade moved through the tent flap in small, cautious steps. He felt Skye's presence right behind him, a wall that kept his trepidation out, for some bizarre reason.

When he looked around, it was like he had put on a pair of cinnamon-colored glasses. The square wooden tables draped with ginger-hued tablecloths were scattered haphazardly across the planked floor. On the opposite side of the entrance was a counter with a glass display housing a variety of chocolates and pastries. There were a few brown fans whirring at the periphery of the restaurant. Even the cutlery was tinged with tan. Wade peeked at a menu in the shelf near the entrance.

_The Mudhouse_, Wade thought wryly. _As subtle as a bunch of bouncing Wailmer_. _If this really is where those goons are hiding, then the whole place gives everything away._ Did that mean that Skye was right?

A caw snatched his attention. A black shape popped out from behind the counter and settled on the cash register. Wade stared at the Murkrow, which had begun pecking at the keys.

"Get back here, you mangy bird!"

A man carrying a tray walked into view from the door behind the counter, and Wade noticed the white, dirty apron he wore that failed to conceal the bulging stomach he sported. Attached to it near his waist were four pokéballs.

"Not open yet?" Skye asked the grimy guy.

The man glared at the Murkrow before snatching it from the cash register. "Nope, sorry. You'll have to come back tomorrow. We've got problems with the… uh… the stove."

"You use a lot of Murkrow on the job, huh?" Skye went on as he critically eyed the one-foot bird.

"Which is weird," said Wade, taking loud, intimidating steps toward the man, "since, from my memory, the Consable Clan only used Ground types." He shot the man a look that could have frozen a Slugma.

The man stared at the two of them as if he had been punched in between the eyes. He was sweating now. "Did… did the Boss send for you?"

"That's all I needed to know," Wade said as he released another of his new purchases: a lithe, dark-colored feline with formidable claws and pink feather-shaped protrusions on its head.

[Are you sure about this?] Skye asked in his mind. [That one's newly hatched, right?]

[May as well train Sneasel.]

"I hear the chef's been busy in the kitchen again," Wade said. He languidly twirled Sneasel's pokéball on his index finger. "He here? I could use a few things to sink my teeth into."

"You're suspicious," the man said as he set the tray down on the counter and directed Murkrow to stand in front of him, ready to battle.

"You're slow."

"Officer Malone should be here any minute," Skye said off-handedly. He eyed the imminent battle with a faint grin of interest.

"Oh blast it all!" The man's face was no longer confused; it had donned on a ferocious glint. "Murkrow, Peck that thing! I don't know how you kids found out, but there's no way you're going to ruin it all!"

"Sneasel, return. Umbreon, let's not waste any time or effort. Dark Pulse."

The black pokémon materialized from its pokéball and released a wave of malevolent energy, which enveloped Murkrow and sucked its health. It croaked before falling on the planked floor, its scaly claw twitching.

"What the—How'd that happen?"

"Where's the chef?" Wade asked one more time.

"As if I'd tell you," the man growled. He brought out his next pokémon, another Murkrow.

"You are going to lose," Wade told him dispassionately. "You're either so stupid that you can't recognize the vast different in strength between my Umbreon and your pokémon, or desperate. You're nothing but fodder for my Dark types. Sneasel, one more go."

[Will it still be a stronger foe?] Sneasel's contour appeared from the red light of the pokéball. It faced him with an expression that Wade discerned to be unease.

Wade stared at the Dark-Ice pokémon. [You… you can talk to me?] Like Horsea did when he had battled Jacobson! The Water type might have been small, but it certainly possessed enough spunk to fill a Wailord when it had asked Wade if it could squirt ink on Jacobson's face when he had lost.

[I felt I could,] Sneasel replied. [Is it still stronger than I am?]

Wade glanced at the Murkrow and answered quickly. There was no telling when it would launch its attacks. [It is. But I will make you stronger. Pull back for now.]

"Umbreon, cover for Sneasel. Then fire another Dark Pulse."

Umbreon stepped forward and received Murkrow's Peck, which barely upset it at all, then blasted the bird with another wave of sinister energy and promptly putting it out of commission. The man's other two pokémon met the same fate, and by the fourth pokémon the man was quivering.

"I… I've got to warn the boss!" The man dashed into the kitchen, but before Wade could tear after him Skye was already on the move. The older youth hurdled the counter and charged into the kitchen, where a loud crash resounded. Wade followed and took a wary peek. Skye had apparently tackled the goon, who was knocked out and slumped over the table.

Wade turned back and carried Sneasel. He looked it straight in the eyes, as if the reason it could speak to him like his Umbreon, Slowpoke, Slowking, and Gyarados lay in there.

[What's so weird?] Sneasel asked. Even in Wade's head its voice sounded very feline. [Don't trainers and their pokémon speak like this all the time?]

[… Actually, no.]

Sneasel's kitty eyes narrowed at him. [I don't care. Just keep your promise and make me stronger.]

Wade had that TM, didn't he? He brought it out from his pocket and showed it to the feline. It could have been mistaken for a music CD, though popping it into a player wouldn't have set anyone dancing or singing along.

"This TM will teach you a technique known as Ice Punch," he told it. "That battle should have made you strong enough to take out a trainer's pokémon on your own."

[I hope you enjoy bashing those Consable scum as much as I do,] Umbreon quipped.

Sneasel purred as the TM was applied to it. [I'm sure I'll get to love it.]

"Wade," Skye called, "There's a trapdoor under the table. I've managed to open it."

[Thanks, you two.] Wade returned Umbreon and Sneasel to their pokéballs then went back to the kitchen. And indeed, right under the table was a trapdoor. Now _that_ was something one didn't see in a restaurant everyday.

"Maybe that chef guy you're looking for's in there," Skye said.

Wade didn't know how to deal with Skye's persistence at helping him. He stood up and slowly reached for the nearest chair, then took just as much time sitting on it. Indecision could do that to a person. "You don't have to follow through with this, you know," he said quietly. "You've done plenty enough."

Silence. Wade dared not look at the other's face. He didn't know what cosmic force had prompted such utterances; he was surprised his mouth had even allowed them out. Was he nervous? That was a given. But about what?

[Are you frightened that Skye will leave?] Slowbro asked in his mind.

[Are you frightened that he might get hurt?] That was Slowking doing their twiddledum-twiddledee combo.

Wade felt a hand on his shoulder. "Things like these aren't meant to be done alone." He didn't have to look at the other to know that he had that confident, reassuring smile that faithfully accompanied him wherever he was.

"Idiot," Wade muttered. He shook off Skye's hand and stood up.

[Someone's relieved,] Gyarados commented with malicious glee.

[Go kiss a Qwilfish.]

With one last look into the trapdoor, Wade jumped into the darkness.


	7. Chapter 6

Author's Notes  
_Here's the next chappy!_

_I don't own pokémon… if I did I'd be loaded enough so that my great grandchildren won't have to work._

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 6**

"I suppose we could have used that ladder…"

Skye's talent in making Wade reach new heights of vexation was uncanny. Indeed, just as the idiot had spectacularly observed, the barely visible contour of a ladder was propped against the wall behind them. He lifted his foot to walk, but the ground seemed to suck up his weight. His eyes squinted against the frail light that a few scattered kerosene lamps in the distance cast. It seemed that they had entered some sort of tunnel. And there was no chef in sight. Which made him all the more irked.

Not bothering to check if Skye was following, Wade trudged forward. He had not even gone beyond three steps when his shoe stubbed into a rock, but he was saved a face full of mud by Skye's hand catching his.

"Careful."

Wade shot him a glower but kept silent. He wrenched his hand free and went on slogging through the mud.

[Who do you suppose made this?] Skye asked.

[Ground pokémon,] Wade answered. [Probably Diglett or Sandshrew they pilfered.] Now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have been surprised about the tunnel. After all, the Mudhouse was only a front; the main headquarters wasn't exactly found in town. The goons would need a method of transport for the pokémon they stole, not to mention a way to escape in case things got hairy. And with Ground types being their chief tool, it was only logical to dig a tunnel.

Wade was tempted to take one of those lamps so he didn't have to keep worrying about his feet bumping into rocks, but doing that would probably alert any henchmen that might be roaming around the tunnels, what with moving lights being a dead giveaway. It was also probably the reason why Skye had resorted to telepathy. Unfortunately, all this sloshing about in the mud could keep a Snorlax up all night; it was sufficient to warn any attentive guards of intruders.

[Wade, stop.]

When he did, a pair of barely audible voices made their way to his ears. He squinted and could barely make out a wider space—probably some chamber?—a few feet away.

[There seem to be two of them,] Skye said.

[We can take them.]

[If they're any weaker than that guy you clobbered a while back, then I _could_ bring out my Yanma to play.]

[They won't like a couple of teens walking into their secret passage.]

[That's what I'm excited about.]

Without bothering to muffle the sound of their footsteps—as if that were possible!—the two stepped into the room. In the upper left corner were two men, one sitting on the table with his knees folded and the other lounging around on a wooden chair. A kerosene lamp sat morosely beside the table. In the lower left corner of the room, Wade saw two wooden crates with wide, uneven gaps between the laths that had been used to construct it. Wade made out spherical objects peeking from in between those gaps. They looked like pokéballs.

"Some Fair attraction this tunnel is," Skye mumbled.

"Are you dummies part of this?" Wade asked the two men, who stared at them as if they had sprouted ten extra arms.

"How'd you find this out?" the guy who had been sitting on the table asked.

"No point asking questions, stupid!" the other goon snapped. "Let's just get rid of them! Sandshrew, go!"

"Diglett, get out here!"

Wade studied the two Ground pokémon and realized that they were very young and had barely been trained. He brought out Sneasel while Skye released a lithe Bug with large eyes and wings with red bands at the end, his Yanma.

"Ice Punch on the Sandshrew, Sneasel."

"Yanma, start things up with Quick Attack!"

Yanma's form suddenly disappeared and quickly smashed into Diglett. It then reappeared in front of its trainer. At the same time, Wade's agile feline surged towards the yellow brick-skinned rodent with its massive claws extended. Once it struck, a chilly mist and shards of ice burst out from its fist, and Sandshrew squealed in pain.

"Sandshrew, Poison Sting on Sneasel!"

"Diglett, gang up on that stupid cat! Astonish!"

Sandshrew launched a poisonous projectile from its tail, which hit Sneasel squarely in the chest. Diglett released a screech that would have scared the daylights out of a grave.

[You can do it, Sneasel,] Wade encouraged as Sneasel swayed a bit.

[Let's switch targets?] Skye asked.

"Sneasel, Ice Punch on Diglett!"

"Quick Attack on Sandshrew, Yanma!"

The two pokémon repeated their attacks, and much to the horror of the two goons the Ground pokémon collapsed afterwards.

"You can't beat our perfect combination," Skye gushed as he flashed a victory grin. Wade rolled his eyes. "When we win, I think we'll take all the Murkrow you have in these crates instead of the usual money."

"Hey, how'd you know about the Murkrow? Dang it, Geodude, get out here!"

"Wooper, front and center!"

[I could ask the same question,] Wade flatly commented. It seemed that Skye didn't have any compunctions about snooping in other people's minds.

[Details, details.] "Yanma, Quick Attack on that Wooper!"

[Sneasel, we'll have to be careful. If that Geodude's strong enough, it can do some real damage to you and Skye's Yanma. We have to take it out fast.] "Ice Punch."

Yanma vanished and slammed into Wooper from behind. Sneasel let loose another frosty punch that was so strong that Geodude was catapulted back to its trainer. Wooper retaliated with a spray of water at Yanma, and it was so focused on its counterattack that it didn't see Sneasel hit with another Ice Punch from the side. Unconscious, it plopped on the floor.

The two goons didn't bother with furious exclamations once they lost. They simply ran in the opposite direction. Wade's mind was still scrambling for an idea to slow them down when he saw the shoelaces on their shoes. Taking a leaf out of Skye's book, he quickly unraveled them with his mind and wound them around their legs. What followed were two loud splats.

Skye was immediately all over his Yanma. "Wow, you're pretty strong, aren't you? I knew I made the right decision when I decided to buy you! I wonder when you'll learn some Flying attacks?" If Skye hugged that Yanma, it was dead.

As the long-haired blonde showered his pokémon with praises, Wade trudged over to the two crates, lifted the cover of the top one, and clutched one of the pokéballs. _Murkrow, huh?_ Since when did the Clan use the Dark-Flying pokémon? And why would they even consider using them?

"We can go back for them once we reach the end of this tunnel," Skye said. He brought back Yanma to its pokéball and moved to the other side of the room. "C'mon, we better get going. I don't want to be caught in cramped spaces like this when nightfall arrives."

Wade stared a moment at the pokéball before tossing it back into the crate. He'd have his answers later. He knelt down beside the two defeated thugs and grasped their jaws tightly so they could look into his eyes.

"You're going to forget about this little incident," he murmured. "You'll both enter a trance-like state, so you can't undo the shoelaces at your feet." Their eyes dulled, and they nodded dumbly. When Wade let go of their chins, they swayed like soulless dolls.

As he stood up, he heard Skye ask from behind, "I take it you're good with that kind of stuff."

He peered at him from his shoulder. "I'm not good with moving things with my mind. I think I'm better with manipulating the minds of others, though I won't deny that it's a draining task."

"Don't overexert yourself, then."

Wade looked away.

"Shall we go?"

The next passageway was as wet, narrow, and dark as the previous one. The lamps were getting fewer and fewer, and on more than one occasion Wade had to feel for the walls. Sometimes, he heard Skye muttering; his ears caught the words "enclosed" and "claustrophobic."

Wade didn't know how long they plodded in the dark. He nearly sighed in relief when the faint glow of a kerosene lamp revealed another room, and this time there were no unfamiliar voices. Assuming that there was no one there was a mistake; once he and Skye entered the lamp-lit room there was a single henchman lying on a cot in the far side of the room.

Wade released Horsea from its pokéball; the sound drew the henchman's attention.

"You're not supposed to be here," the man said as he leapt off the cot.

"Sleeping on the job, what'll the chef say?" Wade replied with a smirk.

"How—"

"Can't you guys think of any other question besides 'How this?" or 'How that?'" Wade snapped. "It's getting annoying."

"Well sooo-rry. Diglett, bring that blue pipsqueak down! Scratch it!"

As the diminutive mole appeared, Horsea sprung forward and blasted it with a volley of bubbles. Diglett fought back with a claw in Horsea's face, but the Water pokémon stood its ground. Wade quickly called for another Bubble attack, after which the Diglett fainted.

[I suppose things are fast if you have a type advantage,] Skye observed.

The henchman brought out another Diglett, which was immediately pummeled with a blast of bubbles. The mole spewed sand into Horsea's eyes in an attempt to blind it, but the Sand Attack didn't work; Horsea's subsequent move, a Water Gun, still hit. The Ground pokémon fainted.

[Can you still battle, Horsea?] Wade asked.

[I'm not going to stop until I get to squirt ink on that loser's face!]

The thug's final pokémon was a Swinub, a.k.a. scooting pincushion. Horsea immediately launched a Water Gun from its snout, but the Ice-Ground pokémon scooted out of the way. It hurled itself at Horsea in a Tackle. Horsea squealed and fell into the mud, but not before hosing its opponent with another Water Gun. This time, it hit its mark. Swinub tumbled onto its back and struggled to right itself.

Wade took the opportunity to toss Horsea a Berry; it wouldn't do much, but that was the best he could do without any Potions. Some Pokémart worker he was, going into battle without Potions.

Swinub was back in action by the time Horsea finished the treat. It shook its shaggy body and let loose a shower of snow. The Powder Snow enveloped Horsea, but it accomplished little except to give the Water pokémon a modest chill. Horsea sprayed its foe with another Water Gun, and that was that. Swinub fell.

[Nice work, Horsea.] Wade then checked if the henchman had shoelaces.

He did.

Wade worked his magic. The thug yelled as he lost his balance and fell.

_I'm beginning to love doing that._ [Okay, Horsea. Squirt away.] Horsea hopped to the fallen goon and fired a Smokescreen in his face.

Wade was surprised when Skye suddenly spoke. "These crates hold some of the stolen pokémon."

He turned around. Indeed, wooden crates, each one beside the other, waited quietly in one corner of the room. The heat of the battle was entirely at fault for his failure to notice them. Skye had opened one of them and was casually tossing a pokéball in his hand.

"Don't you dare open one," Wade growled. Skye blinked quizzically at him. "If a Hippopotas pops out, I'm going to kick you. Bad enough that I got mud in my toes; I don't need sand to add to the mess."

"Oh, right." Skye hastily returned the pokéball and exited the room. Wade returned Horsea and followed, except that now the henchman was causing such a ruckus—"Let me go! Untie me now!"—that he kicked him to shut him up. When that didn't work—"Hey, what'd you kick me for? I told you to let me go!"—he ripped a couple of rugged strips from the man's shirt and used one to gag him and the other to tie his hands together.

[I like the way you work,] Gyarados told him.

Skye whistled. "Merciless, huh?"

"Get a move on."

"Yes, sir!"

Wade shoved Skye out the room, which only brought a round of laughter from the latter. The two traversed another dark tunnel with feeble light coming first from a kerosene lamp, then from a pathetic candle that was barely holding its own against the darkness. Wade spotted a third—and it better be the last!—chamber, only this time it wasn't the hushed voices of henchmen that froze them in their tracks, but the distressed cries of pokémon. Wade saw red and wanted to rush head-on into the room, but Skye got there first.

There were no goons in sight, and that was perhaps the most astounding thing about this room, considering that it was full of steel cages with captured pokémon trilling, screeching, and grunting to be released. His eyes roved around and fell on a rickety table sitting in between a cage of Wooper and a cage of Sandshrew. On the table were two items: another kerosene lamp, and a clipboard. Wade took the second object and perused the pages, which seemed to be an inventory of pokémon items, including Great Balls, Escape Ropes, Hi Potions, Antidotes, and others. He stopped at a certain page with a glaring red underline emphasizing one of the items.

Mint Berries.

Then his eyes widened as he spotted the watermark on top of the page.

The Higgins pokémart.

He could scarcely believe his eyes. This was proof that the owner of this pokémart, Mr. Larry Higgins, had been in on the orchestration of these thefts, as well! He scanned the list again for any more markings he might have missed, but saw nothing else.

It was then that he recalled that the chunks of pokémon food they had recovered from Jacobson' pockets smelled awfully like mint.

Skye's face was abruptly above his right shoulder. "I'm thinking that's evidence we can give to Officer Malone…? You're kidding!" He exclaimed as he snatched the clipboard. "Mr. Higgins? Mint Berries? But the food we got from that thug we delivered to Officer Malone smelled like mint! You don't think—"

"Probably."

Wade's hands clenched. He stared at the caged pokémon, all desperate to be free. He looked at the scared faces of Wooper that were locked in the cage beside the table. One of those could have been that happy pokémon that had been bouncing on the tent roofs of one of the stalls, before those Murkrow had attacked. He saw Cubone quivering, Phanpy crying, Swinub squealing, and many others behind those cruel bars. Wade's head slowly turned around, and whichever way he looked there was no escaping all those terrified faces that twisted his heart.

His eyes went back to the clipboard in Skye's hands. When Wade's eyes locked with the other's, it was only then that he noticed that his breaths had become deep and ragged.

Finishing this tunnel was what he wanted, right? Could he live with himself if he achieved that, knowing that these imprisoned pokémon were terrified? Was he capable of leaving them behind? Could he be that ruthless?

"Jumpluff, come on out."

Jumpluff? Why? Wade, though, gave no outward sign of puzzlement. The Grass-Flying pokémon appeared and faced its trainer.

"I want you to tell these guys that everything will be okay," Skye continued. "We've found where they are; it'll only be a matter of time before they get returned to their owners. This guy over here,"—he pointed a fist with his thumb extended to Wade—"has to do something really important. But once it's done, we'll be back. You got that, Jumpluff?"

The puffball chipped an affirmative and set to work. He drifted to the nearest cage and began chirping the explanation. Skye did the same, he hopped to a cage that contained a trio of Cubone and started yakking.

"Now don't you worry, you'll be free in no time! We'll just finish something important, then get back to you guys. You'll be fine, so relax, 'kay?"

Next cage. "Aww, don't cry Sandshrew! You have to be strong! We'll be back for you guys, so calm down."

Another cage. "I'm surprised you haven't busted out of there, Phanpy. I think you're strong enough to do that. Are you scared? You don't have to be anymore. We'll get you out of there. We'll just take care of the guys who did this to you."

Wade watched. The din became softer and softer, until eventually only an occasional grunt disturbed the quietude. Once the two were done, Skye and his Jumpluff positioned themselves a couple of feet in front of him and gave him a look that seemed to ask if that was good enough. Wade just stared back.

Skye grinned. "No, I didn't read your mind. I just hoped that I knew you enough. For now, let's just be content with the fact that I'm with you all the way."

Wade was at a lost for words.

That grin remained. Wade knew he was supposed to be getting annoyed right about now, but for some reason irritation eluded him.

That is, until Skye said, "You're welcome."

Wade' fist connected with Skye's arm. Hard. His fingers were still twitching when he walked off into the exit.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! You didn't have to fracture my arm! Hey… hey! Wait for me! Jumpluff, return, and thanks for your help!"

[Remember what he told you after buying you Sneasel?] Slowbro asked.

[You don't have to remind me.]

Kindness was a lie. The only kindness he believed in was his mother's.

Wade recalled the caring boy he had met outside of Ebony seven years ago. He remembered the welcoming arms of the shopkeeper, and the way this shopkeeper had treated him like his own son by providing food, shelter, and clothing—for a total stranger like him! Afterwards, that same caring boy had tried his hardest to make friends with him, a task as monumental as moving a mountain. He was still doing so up to now, even though that mountain hadn't budged yet.

Kindness was a lie. He believed that, didn't he? How could his resolve be crumbling away without his noticing?

Wade nearly tripped again, but not because of a rock. This passageway was different. It had a feel of going up, as if they were ascending a hill. Wade hoped that meant the end of this wretched tunnel.

His hopes were fulfilled when he spotted a ladder that was leaning against the ceiling at its highest point. At the end of the ladder was the faint outline of a trapdoor. He placed a tentative hand on one of the rungs then slowly climbed. Once he got to the top, he pounded the trapdoor until it budged and popped open. Light seeped into the moist tunnel like the fresh breath of a new day; it was so sudden that Wade had to squint.

Skye sighed loudly behind him. "I though we'd never get out of this joint."

Wade's head emerged from the trapdoor, and the first thing he did was gawk.

"Skye… you're not going to believe this."


	8. Chapter 7

Author's Notes_  
Chapter 7 here. It's confrontation time._

_I don't own pokémon. I'm not __**that**__ delusional._

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 7**

Instead of imposing cement walls or locked steel doors that connoted warehouses with secret goods, Wade saw the open sky, its ethereal clouds drifting lazily. Instead of more rickety tables and chairs or rusty kerosene lamps, he saw a few solitary trees that stood out among the meadow shrubs and flowers. In the far distance near the horizon he could make out the outlines of the many trees that made up Coast Woods, a forest that bordered the northern side of the island. Wade also noticed that the heat was no longer as tyrannical as it was a while ago; in fact, he was no longer sweating. The wind was the music that made the verdant blades dance, and it was also the gentle hand that stroked his cheek.

What were they doing in the grassy plains outside Ebony?

Footsteps rustling in the grass caused Wade to turn around. He regarded the newcomers with a flat gaze.

"That must be Jordan from the Mud—huh?"

Wade came face to face with a pair of henchmen in dirty yellow vests and khaki pants flanking someone who was no doubt Chef Hotnoser himself. The chef's hat, the thick moustache, the bushy beard, the pot belly pushing into the apron, the massive arms… The memory was so clear now. A coldness with the voracity of a predator devoured him, and the voice that came out from him was something he didn't recognize.

"You're Chef Hotnoser."

The Grumpig of a man arched an eyebrow at him. "Pretty smart kids to discover the trapdoor in the Mudhouse," he remarked snidely.

"And you're pretty dumb to think up of something like using food to tempt pokémon straight into their capture. Not to mention using Murkrow to cause enough confusion to snatch any Ground pokémon that runs away from their owners."

"Dumb?" Hotnoser guffawed. "The police still have no idea what's going on, when in fact they're missing the action that's right under their noses! It's a brilliant—"

"I thought the Clan only used Ground pokémon."

The paunchy chef gasped. He fixed Wade with such a scrutinizing look that his forehead wrinkled like a shirt from the laundry. He snapped his hand, after which one of his menials walked a little back into the tall grass and pulled a rope. Wade gritted his teeth as he saw what was at the end of that cord.

It was Mr. Higgins. Only, in a shape that he hadn't expected. The scrawny man was tied with his hands behind him, and a gag covered half his unmoving face. Wade didn't have time to rethink wrong conclusions; he had to get him out of here. But then, he had forgotten about Skye, who had already moved. His form appeared behind the three thugs. He grasped Mr. Higgins's arm and teleported back, his body fading from view.

"Looks like you have no hostage now," Skye said from behind Wade.

The chef's eyes looked like they were going to pop out. His head spun behind him, then back to them. His henchmen shared a similar expression of stupefaction.

Wade tossed Umbreon's pokéball. "I'm bringing your entire operation down," he said quietly.

"An Umbreon!" the henchman on the chef's right exclaimed. "Now that's a rare sight these days."

"Quit admiring and start battling!" Chef Hotnoser snapped.

"I'll get him!" the henchman on the chef's left growled as he brought out a Numel.

Wade wasn't exactly fond of the Fire-Ground beasts since they seemed so slow and dull-witted, but he knew enough never to underestimate an opponent. He waited for the man to make the first move.

"Numel, Ember!"

[Umbreon, finish it in one blow. Dark Pulse.]

The air radiated with malevolence, as if a cloud of ghosts full of malicious intent had descended on the plains. Calmly sitting on its haunches as if waiting for a snack, Umbreon released balls of dark energy, which were accompanied by a jarring, high-pitched shriek, the sound of one being tortured. The Numel shuddered as it was engulfed by the Dark Pulse, and much to its trainer's shock it suddenly collapsed.

Trying to maintain a brave front, his opponent released the next pokémon: another Numel. But the result was the same; a single Dark Pulse defeated it. The man apprehensively stared at him. Wade only gazed back impassively.

"He… he didn't even tell his pokémon anything!" cried out his opponent, his lips quivering. "What kind of trainer _are_ you?"

"You still have a pokéball left, Sanders," the other henchman pointed out, but he didn't sound confident.

"Must be a fluke," Sanders muttered. "Alright, here's my Murkrow."

But right as it was released, it fell from the blast of Umbreon's Dark Pulse, just like the others. By this time, Sanders was cowering. He scrambled behind Chef Hotnoser's back and gaped at him as if he were some horrifying Ghost pokémon.

"Teller, get him!" the chef ordered. Teller momentarily looked at Wade before stepping out in front and bringing out one more Numel.

"The result will be the same," Wade said frostily. "If you value your pokémon's health, I suggest that you give up."

"Shut up," Teller said, though it was clear from his tone that his heart wasn't into it. "N… Numel, Tackle it!"

It fell after a Dark Pulse. Two Sandshrew followed; they were defeated, too. By the end of the fourth pokémon, a Geodude, Teller was quailing just as much as Sanders.

"Boss, he's—he's just too strong! We can't take him!"

"Numel-skulls!" Chef Hotnoser muttered. He glared at Wade hatefully. "Are you one of the police's underlings, those silly, chocolate-brained trainers who volunteer for investigations?"

"I work for no one."

The chef directed a pondering gaze toward him before asking his next question. "What is it that you want? Why're you butting in our business? What will you get by doing this?"

"It's clear you don't recognize who I am. I received just as many beatings from your rolling pin just as much as from my father."

"I don't know what you're talking about, boy, but I'm through listening to you. Diglett," Chef Hotnoser barked, "get him! Magnitude, and make sure it's strong!"

The tiny Ground pokémon popped into view. It let out a battle growl and was about to violently shake the ground when it was enveloped by dark energy. It fell quickly.

The fat chef flushed. He brought out a Numel, but one Dark Pulse destroyed the poor thing. Hotnoser roared and flung his hat onto the ground and stomped it flat, and with eyes that hurled daggers he faced Wade with his final pokéball.

"Charmeleon, get out now! Bake that scabby Umbreon hard with an Ember attack!"

Wade still hadn't moved nor had he uttered any words, but Umbreon knew what to do. The fiery reptile was caught with its mouth open as the Dark Pokémon unleashed another wave of sinister energy. It dropped down with a moan, and the battle was finished.

"You…"

Recognition dawned on Chef Hotnoser's face. A nasty grin suddenly curved his mouth. "You… I know who you are now. So that Eevee that your pathetic mother gave you before she conked out evolved, huh?" He released another boisterous guffaw that was ugly to Wade's ears. The teen's fists shook. "I never agreed with how Quodo allowed you to keep close to Analyn. How were you going to learn to steal if that harlot did nothing but teach you unnecessary things like conscience and principles? Eh, Wade?"

"Don't insult my mother!" Wade snarled.

"Quodo should have disowned you sooner," the chef plowed on. "Because the moment he did, that was the only time we could make sport of you without risking his wrath. We'd have caged you like a pokémon, you and your stupid Eevee, and have you fight the pokémon we stole. You know how hungry for entertainment our henchmen are." He guffawed again. "I can only imagine what Analyn would think when she sees her son pitted in combat like a mindless beast. But she's dead now, isn't she? Eaten by a Gyarados or rotting on the ocean floor."

Wade's eyes flashed. The air hummed with power. Was that scream his? He didn't know, nor did he care. Chef Hotnoser and his two henchmen lifted into the air, and their screams joined his. The two henchmen crashed into each other and were knocked out. Wade smashed the fat chef into the ground, then lifted him up, then down again, the man bouncing like a Wailmer full of water.

"No Wade!" A weight slammed into him from behind and knocked the air out of him. As he regained his senses, he was dumbfounded to see Skye on top of him with a concerned expression painting his face. He shoved the other off with a snarl, but Skye clung on.

"Don't do this," he pleaded. "They're not worth it."

"Get off me!" Was that his voice, as well? Who knew it could be so savage? "I told you not to butt in!"

"You're going to kill them if you keep this up!" Skye shouted.

Wade replied by sending a fist into the other's cheek. Skye hurtled to the ground. He turned back toward his quarry but snarled when he saw that Skye had teleported in front of them, his arms spread protectively over them.

"Gyarados, get out here!" Wade roared.

The Atrocious pokémon appeared, its blue segmented body winding in the air. It settled on the grass with its fangs bared.

"Don't get in my way, Skye. They're mine."

Skye was breathing heavily. His arms were still extended over the three thugs. "Don't do this. This isn't what you want."

"You don't know what they did! To me, to Mama! You don't know what I've been through!"

"That's because you never told me anything! I never asked, because I knew it would just scrape at those wounds you seemed so rabid to hide!"

Wade growled. "Gyarados! Aqua Tail!"

The serpentine monster launched itself, but immediately stopped, as if caught in an unseen net. It stared at Skye in confusion.

[Wade… Wade!]

Wade's head jerked towards Gyarados.

[Skye… he… he's talking to me! The same way you can! I can hear him in my mind!]

He gaped. He could feel that searing, consuming hotness in his chest slowly ebbing away.

[He… He's telling me… to tell you… that this isn't worth it. That… he may not know what happened to you in the past, but he has a promise to keep. If he wants to protect you, he has to stop you from hurting the Consable goons. He knows you're going to regret it if you do.]

His entire body trembled. He looked at Skye, who had a determined expression plastered on his face. Then he stared at the fallen chef and his two henchmen, who remained unmoving on the ground.

The wind picked up. It made his hair flail; it beat at his clothes.

"A… Aqua Tail, Gyarados."

The blades of grass thrashed at each other. Fallen leaves rose and danced. Gyarados seemed uncertain about executing the Water technique. And for good reason. What happened next was something Wade would never forget.

Columns of whirling winds rose from the grass and circled around Skye and the Consable criminals. They twisted and turned as if they were alive. Suddenly unsure and gripped by fear, Wade found himself stepping back. Where were the columns of wind coming from?

[Wade,] Gyarados said, [it's Skye!]

Skye had donned a look of concentration, and one of his arms was extended in front of him. The winds wildly whipped at his ponytail. His blue eyes, which seemed to emit a mysterious aura, never left Wade.

As quickly as the columns of air appeared, they vanished. The leaves drifted back to the ground, and the grass stopped rustling. The plains became calm again.

"Enough, Wade. Let them go."

That pronouncement held no anger. It was not even a command, but an uncomplaining request.

Wade returned Gyarados to its pokéball. His legs unable to support him any longer, he fell to the ground. All that fury that was tearing through him was gone. He suddenly felt tired. Empty.

"Wade—" Skye began but was immediately cut short.

"You'll never understand," Wade said softly. The words that followed were reluctant to come out, and when they did it was in an anguished, dragging procession. "You have a wonderful home. You never had to fear your father. You never had to hope that someday, he'd change his ways, he just needed time. You never—" A lump in his throat obstructed whatever else he was about to say. Were there tears in his eyes? No. He had forgotten how to cry. He pushed himself up from the ground and gazed at the arriving dusk on the horizon.

"Just leave me alone, Skye." And with that, he teleported out of there.

- x x x -

Skye stared at where Wade had been. The inconsiderate jerk had just left him alone to clean up the mess he had made! Though he should have known by now that it was only typical of him to be so thoughtless.

He brought out Pidgeot and leaned against its feathery body. Where was his composure when he needed it? He wrapped his shaking hands around Pidgeot and tried to steady them. The Normal-Flying pokémon rubbed its head against Skye's cheek and cooed. He glanced at the three unconscious men behind him and sighed.

[Why did I save them again, Pidgeot?]

Pidgeot trilled, as if to berate him for being silly. [You already told Wade the answer.]

[How could they talk to him like that? It's like, Wade didn't even merit being treated like a human. And his mother! How could they?] Tears threatened to flow. Skye wouldn't mind if they did. [No wonder he's like that, with a wall around him so high that it's hard to reach out to him.]

The silence that ensued offered no explanations.

[You should do something for that bruise on your face,] Pidgeot remarked after a while.

Skye rubbed at his left cheek. It still stung. [I'll put some ice on it later. We have a lot of cleaning up to do, Pidgeot.]

[Skye?] Ledian abruptly asked. [Are you alright?]

[I'll deal with that later, Ledian,] he replied wearily. [What's important now is to erase Mr. Higgins's memory of all this, bring him back to his pokémart, then work on that tunnel underneath the Mudhouse. I'll let myself break down when we get to our secret hideout afterwards.]

[I _will_ hold you to that, you know.]

Skye sighed at Ledian's obstinacy. [I promise.] "Hey Pidgeot, could you give me a hand with Mr. Higgins, there? I just need to erase his memory a little so he won't remember any of this. I'm guessing a couple of hours back into the past will do."

Pidgeot flapped over to the unconscious, bound man while Skye placed a hand on his forehead. He concentrated for a while until the deed was done, after which he returned Pidgeot into its pokéball. Gripping Mr. Higgins, he warped back to town. He disappeared along with the man as if he had never been on the plains.


	9. Chapter 8

Author's Notes  
_Chapter 8 here._

_Pokémon is not mine (mine… mine… mine…). Hey, where'd that echo come from? :D_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 8**

The room was silent except for the sounds of general carousing filtering from outside through the open windows. The ceiling was a little low, which gave the impression that the room was a bit cramped, but this was compensated for by the wide space and the three windows. Besides, it furnished the room with a rather homey appeal. A pair of beds stretched out from the right-hand wall, and opposite them were a set of drawers and cabinets that housed an assorted collection of things such as clothes, books and magazines, pokémon-training items, and some photos. Plastered on the light blue wall above the beds were a couple of posters, one depicting a whole array of Water pokémon playing around in the sea, and the other showing a flock of bird pokémon flying freely in a dusk sky. The floor, composed of crisscrossing wooden tiles, gleamed a little from the remaining sunlight.

No one would have thought that a couple of teenagers called this place their bedroom, as everything was just too tidy. No one would have also thought that one of the youths responsible for stopping the culprits of the day's confusion would be here right now, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling with his forearms as pillows.

On the floor across the bed sat Slowbro and Slowking. The two pokémon could have been twins, for they shared a number of similar features that included wide magnanimous eyes, a rotund habitus, and a pink color; however, they differed in the position of their shells. Slowbro had its gastropod on its tail, while Slowking's was clasped firmly on its head in the same fashion as a crown.

[If you're thinking we're going to be angry at you,] Slowbro slowly began.

[Well, we won't be.] Despite Slowking's dense-looking face, there was heavy conviction under that statement.

Wade didn't answer. To tell the truth, a part of him wanted the two to berate him for almost killing Hotnoser and his men. It would assuage his guilt a lot faster. He shifted to the left and barely suppressed a sigh.

"I wanted to kill him," said Wade quietly. "But… even if Mama had been around to hear that, she would not have approved of it. As much as it galls me to admit it, Skye was right."

Slowbro nodded. [That was the reason why you brought him in the first place, is it not?]

[Besides being a companion, he would be a guardian.] Slowking bobbed its head as well.

[Facing the past is always a daunting task,] Slowbro continued.

[Who better to do it with than a friend?] Slowking finished.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Actually, he did. But right now, he just wanted to be childishly contrary.

When Wade thought of Skye and what had happened in the plains, he couldn't help feeling two things: dumbfounded and miserable—an odd combination, indeed. Dumbfounded, because where in the world had he learned to control the winds like that? From what he could remember, those windy columns had vaguely resembled Gust attacks that Pidgey and other Flying pokémon could use. And miserable, because the only idiot in this entire world who wasn't afraid to show that he cared for him was still somewhere out there, mending the mess Wade had left behind. Not to mention probably nursing wounded affections. Knowing this magnified his guilt so many times worse.

"I've done something unforgiveable to him," Wade muttered. "I may as well pack my things and leave." For some odd reason, saying that left him with nothing but a bone-deep sorrow.

A square object suddenly hovered into view. Wade realized that it was the framed photograph that lay on the cabinet and that one of the two Water-Psychic pokémon had floated it to him. He hesitantly took it and saw himself. He wasn't alone in this picture; beside him was the long-haired form of Skye with a stupid victory sign and a wide grin, and behind them was Skye's father, wearing glasses, a simple green shirt, and just as big a smile. Wade was the only one who wasn't looking cheerful in the picture, what with his serious gaze and folded arms.

They almost looked like a family…

_Family and friends are treasures._

Wade started as the thought suddenly alighted on his mind. He knew that saying all too well…

- x x x -

Five-year old Wade sobbed on his mother's lap. Jacobson was a liar. He was no friend.

Mama dipped the dark-colored, ragged cloth in the basin of water and gently applied it on Wade's bruises. She continued doing this until Wade's crying was reduced to hiccups and sniffles. She left the fabric in the basin and buried her fingers in her son's hair.

"One day," she murmured to him, "you will find someone. Someone who will teach you the true meaning of friendship. Not with lies, but with openness. Not with anger, but with forgiveness. Not with fear, but with courage."

"No one in this world is like that," Wade whispered.

There was a pause. Wade didn't have to look up at Mama's face to know she was smiling. "Oh, there will be one. And when you meet that person, you've found treasure more valuable than all the money in the world."

Wade looked up at her, his eyes red and puffy. "Really? Where's _your_ treasure, Mama?"

Her smile grew. It was so sweet, like chocolate-strawberry cake.

"He's lying down right here in my lap."

- x x x -

_Had you been right all along, Mama?_

Wade sighed. He glanced a moment at the window before hauling himself out of bed.

"May as well see what I can do downstairs. You'd better get back to your pokéballs."

[We'll always be here to help you, Wade,] Slowbro said before vanishing into the spherical contraption.

Wade returned the photograph on top of the cabinet before descending the stairs.

The scene that met him was utter bedlam. Lilibeth was bravely entertaining a bunch of hyperactive kids who were running in between the shelves—Wait. Was it her Teddiursa Smiley that the monsters were chasing? So _that's_ why Lilibeth looked frantic. Angeline was trying to placate a couple of old ladies who were arguing over a great ball. The poor girl was trying to lead the two into the rack that held more of them, but they were too busy shrieking to notice. One of the new hired help was blistering his fingers at the cashier as impatient customers, who seemed to be foreign to the concept of lining up, shoved and shouldered their way towards him. Mr. Andies, his slender frame looking ready to plop down on the floor, had a clipboard in hand, and his nose was so buried into one of the shelves that he jumped and squeaked when Wade approached him.

"Oh, Wade! I thought you were one of those… Anyway, do you need anything?"

Wade took a casual glance at the papers in Mr. Andies's hand. "Sir, what are you tallying?"

"Things that we ran out of," he wearily answered as his pen began moving over the sheets of paper. "The first things that disappeared were evolution items—the Water Stones and King's Rocks—and it might be because we're one of the few pokémarts that do sell them. Then—"

"I could get some more," Wade offered.

"Oh, Wade, I couldn't ask you to do that," Mr. Andies said as he sidestepped to avoid one of the running children that Lilibeth was chasing. "It's your day-off—"

"I don't mind," Wade quietly said. "I'll have to get some new ones, anyway, for tomorrow and the rest of the fair. I'll be going now."

"Wait! Are you sure? I bet that there are a lot of other stuff you can do at the Fair—"

But Wade was already at the door. "I might be back late, sir."

"Oh, alright. Be careful!"

- x x x -

Skye was exhausted.

Lucky for him, Mr. Higgins had regained consciousness and had remembered nothing, not even as to why he was outside his pokémart. Mumbling incoherently, the scrawny fellow had walked off in a daze. Skye sincerely hoped that he wouldn't get lost.

As for his clipboard, Skye had decided to keep it for the meantime. There was no point in letting an innocent man—even if he was his dad's rival—get caught up in the criminals' impending incarceration. He'd return it later.

As for the thugs themselves… now that was a problem. The first thing he did was return to that spot outside Ebony to alter Chef Hotnoser and his goons' memories so everything that had happened in the past hour would seem like an unreal haze. Just manipulating the minds of those three had left him barely standing; after all, he wasn't an expert on that kind of mental power. Afterwards he teleported them back to the Mudhouse, where he concocted a plan that hopefully didn't have any wrenches in it. A destructive quarrel—that was what he wanted to make it look like. Skye collected the rest of the thugs from the tunnel and dumped them around the Mudhouse. Then, to make things more credible, he levitated the crates of stolen merchandise into the kitchen. Only to realize that the captured pokémon in the third part of the tunnel needed to be here, too; after all, he had made that promise. And so he brought the caged critters into the restaurant proper.

After luring the attention of one of the fair security people into the restaurant, he lingered around like some innocent passer-by to make sure that the right conclusions were formed. True enough, once security discovered the stash of stolen pokémon and pokéballs, it was only a matter of time before the press descended on the scene like a bunch of Golbat sighting a banquet, one that celebrated the end of unexplainable missing pokémon and the Murkrow attacks.

Late afternoon found him on top of one of the tallest buildings in town. This was his secret hideout, not only because the townsmen of Ebony seemed to have forgotten about its existence, but also because it allowed him an unobstructed view of the sky. It was also here that he engaged in a pastime that no one save his pokémon knew about.

Skye brought out Ledian, who joined its trainer in observing the sun nearly finish the ancient arc it always traveled. The wind was strong here, and out of pure whim he let his long hair free.

[Plush toy mode?] Ledian asked.

[Definitely.]

The Bug-Flying pokémon bounced into Skye's arms and held still. The blonde hugged Ledian tight and sat down on the lonely stool that he had brought here so many years ago, when he had found this place.

[I thought you were going to do something about that bruise,] Ledian said.

The wind gusted and twirled around his hair. To his right, the ocean, where round hefty Wailmer would sometimes surface and squirt water into the air, shined a vivid blue. It occasionally reflected the numerous colors of the sky, which changed appearance every time the sun was in proximity of the horizon. To his left, a host of Hoppip hovered with their banners amidst a few buildings; now and then they would be accosted by a curious Pidgey.

"Should I just stop altogether?" Skye asked the clouds softly.

[Stop what?]

Skye smiled, a sad one. "Why am I so stubborn, anyway?"

[About what?]

He sighed.

[I forget that you lose all your coherence when you're like this.] Ledian sounded miffed.

Skye laughed. "I couldn't let Wade just beat up that fat chef, right?"

[Even if he did deserve it…] Ledian muttered darkly. [Besides, this was bound to happen.]

Skye started. "What do you mean?"

[I mean that at some point in time, you were going to be given a glimpse of Wade's past, whether or not you wanted it to happen,] the Bug-Flying pokémon answered. [And honestly, you'd be lucky if it turned out alright. There's a reason why Wade's so angry all the time, and it has to be connected to a dark past. At least we have some idea now.]

"Whether or not I wanted it to happen? I feel like I got caught up in something I shouldn't have meddled with. That's what I get for going along with him."

[You couldn't just let him go off by himself,] Ledian said sternly. [Who knows what that impetuous boy could have done?]

_Impetuous, cold, thoughtless, waspish…_ Who knew what else could be added to the list…

He looked back at the clouds. "I don't know what's going to happen between us, now. I think… I'll just stop getting myself involved. Keep my distance. Should have done it so many years ago. Maybe I was smothering him all this time."

Ledian was quiet before answering. [Don't. Do you notice how you're the only person that he's really mean to? I mean, take a look at how he relates with your other friends, like Nico, or Sarah, or Camille. At least he doesn't call them names, and he's a lot more polite to them.]

"You know, I've been wondering about that."

[I'm hypothesizing that he wants your attention.]

Skye failed to suppress a laugh. "Yeah, right. And Pidgeot's an Electric type, too." He rubbed his hand on Ledian's head and sighed. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

Skye turned his head to his right, where a worn-out dirty white blanket was spread out over some of his stuff. Concentrating, he lifted the cover with his mind and brought the easel, canvas, palette, brushes, and bottles in front of him. Letting go of Ledian, which hopped down, he curled his hand over one of the brushes and felt the familiar hardness of smooth wood, a sensation that slightly calmed him. He faced the sky and picked out the hues that he was going to use.

Then, with the brush gliding over the canvas, he painted.

- x x x -

The water was life.

It surrounded Wade, soothed his angry soul, just as it always did every time he entered its womb. Beside him was the hulking mass of his trusted pokémon, Gyarados, which flowed with the sea as if it were a current carrying him. Below them was Horsea, which darted back and forth and wiggled its little body as if it hadn't been in the water for weeks. They swam like this for some time, with round, gigantic Wailmer sometimes joining them and pink, branched Corsola staring up at them from their place at the sea floor.

Wade suddenly jackknifed downward as he spotted an oval-shaped object among the rocks and corral. On closer inspection, he realized how fortunate he was when he spotted another Water Stone gleaming dully beside the first one. He chucked the pair into his collecting bag—a piece of cheap cloth, inexpensive but unusually durable—and went back to Gyarados, which was waiting for him a few feet above.

He continued doing this until the bag was full. There were always a lot of Water Stones lying around; one just had to know where to look for them. Satisfied with his loot, he tied the corners of the cloth and attached it to a piece of rope coiled around his waist, after which he brought the other piece of cloth for the King's Rocks.

Night was approaching, but for some unnatural reason that Wade had never understood, he grew excited. He loved being surrounded by the intimidating combination of water and darkness, a prospect that would have sent other people back to shore. After surfacing for air, he followed Gyarados into a clearing that was devoid of sea plants but full of Slowpoke lounging around a huge boulder. He began scrutinizing each one for signs of King's Rocks. After bagging five, which was an adequate number since the items were rare, he clung to Gyarados's back fins as the serpentine pokémon slowly wound its way back to the surface, with Horsea trailing behind.

Wade swam back to shore with his load dangling from his waist. He plopped down on the sand to catch his breath and was glad that there was no one around the vicinity. Deciding to collect the evolution pieces a little farther from civilization had been a smart move; he wouldn't have to contend with curious tourists with their curious questions. Wade removed the rope from his waist and slung the bags over his shoulder, after which he stood up, got his shirt, returned Gyarados and Horsea to their pokéballs, and started walking.

Stars began to appear in the darkening sky, and though the clouds were ever changing, what remained constant was the salty incense of the waters that wafted into Wade's nose. While on the way back, he hopped on the rocks that had been hewn by the waves and onto a wide ledge that bordered a tall cliff. Walking a little farther along the ridge, he finally reached a small hollow in the rock wall. Soil, coarse sand, and a few smoothed round pebbles covered the ground in this area, and the ceiling was high enough for him to stand up. Wade placed the bags near the mouth of the grotto and went inside.

The hollow wasn't deep, and people never frequented it. Wade liked it that way; after all, this little space was sacred to him. He knelt down on the ground in front of a makeshift gravestone, upon which he placed his hand.

"Mama."

The Consable Clan head hadn't even bothered himself with properly burying his wife. He had sent out some lackeys to do the job, something that even they hadn't cared to finish. Wade knew; after all, he had followed them. They had simply tossed the wooden casket into sea. A seven-year old Wade had frantically tried to bring it back to shore despite his small size. The stars had smiled upon him at that night, for he had succeeded in rescuing the coffin. He had then dragged it over to this grotto, a shelter where he often played during the rare times he could be allowed outside. Here, he had dug a resting place for the woman he loved the most.

"Sorry I haven't been visiting," Wade said softly. "A lot of things have happened."

And he told her the events of the day. A dark emotion threatened to rise from his heart when he reached the part about Hotnoser, but he pushed it away.

"He had no right to say those things about you. Those scum will never understand what kind of gift you gave me. They don't know the sacrifices you took to give me as normal a childhood as could be possible under those circumstances." His voice shook. "And I'll always love you for it."

He continued his story. By the time he got to the part about what Skye had done, his hands were quivering.

"I failed you in a lot of ways today," he said glumly. "You never failed to remind me to always be kind to others no matter how mean they are to you, but today… I nearly killed someone. If it hadn't been for Skye…" Ashamed, he bowed his head. "I got angry at him, too. For butting in… when I think he had the right to.

"I'm so sorry, Mama. I said some things to Skye that… that hurt him a lot. You always told me, 'Family and friends are treasures,' but…" _How far am I willing to take it?_

He stayed there, and despite his feeling of being so lost he was content with the stillness. There remained a heaviness in his chest that refused to leave, and he tried to conjure happier memories to alleviate it: the hugs after grueling days of enduring the Clan's attempts to corrupt him, the meals with only the two of them together, the bedtime stories that eased him to sleep.

He shook his head in self-reproach. He knew that doing this wouldn't ease that remorse, yet he had engaged in such reminiscence anyway. He touched the gravestone one more time before standing up and collecting the bags.

"I'll visit again."

Wade walked until the sound of the waves was marred by the loud noises of civilization: businessmen calling out, music thumping their beats, shoppers laughing and gossiping, and even pokémon unleashing their battle cries. The fresh salt air began to blend with the odors of dinner. Wade gruffly slipped his shirt on and held his collection tighter to his chest. Taking a deep breath, he then plunged into the sweaty, smelly throng.

Now… Where was that place that sold all those pokémon?

And then he remembered. Near The Great Gardevoir.

With much squeezing and pushing he maneuvered his way through the throng for about five minutes before getting thoroughly annoyed. A bulky man with a sailor's hat and a striped shirt accidentally elbowed his cheek, and when he was about to bite the man's head off a wrinkled old lady with a pointy chin and oversized glasses nearly trampled over him and almost knocked the precious contents off his bags.

_That's it! I'm taking the rooftops._

Wade crept into a narrow, deserted alley then telekinetically pushed his body onto the adjacent rooftop. He bounded to the next and followed a makeshift path towards the pokémon shops. Once the familiar tall poles with the Hoenn birds came into sight, he jumped down into a secluded lane and landed behind a collection of garbage bins. With a tight hand on his bags, he approached the shopkeeper, a motherly old lady who looked like she belonged more in a kitchen baking goodies for her grandchildren than selling pokémon out here in this hubbub.

"It's you!" she greeted. At his perplexed look, she chuckled. "I remember all the handsome boys who pass by my shop." Wade blushed and looked away. "Where's your brother?"

Wade stared at the blue pear-shaped bird hopping on top of a wooden sign beside her shop that said, "Young Hoenn birds for sale!" "You said a while ago that there was a bird here that evolved into a Dragon?"

"Ah. It's Swablu. The one that's skipping around on my sign."

Wade approached the blue bird with the cottony wings. It peered at him warily but didn't fly off.

"That one's pretty young. It's at level 5."

Wade slowly lifted his hand in an unthreatening manner and rubbed its wings. The Swablu apparently decided that this customer wouldn't hurt it, so it cheeped and hopped on his hand.

"I'll take it." Wade handed the shopkeeper a wad of bills.

"Gonna train it?"

"… It's not for me."

The old lady simply smiled. She handed him his change and the Swablu's pokéball. Wade clasped the red sphere and wondered if this would be enough. Should he get that Taillow and Wingull, too?

"Thank you." Wade called back the Swablu into its pokéball.

"I'm sure he'll love it, the way he was staring at these birds a while back."

Wade glanced at the shopkeeper for a moment, then nodded before walking back.

Reaching the pokémart elicited a relieved sigh from his tired body, and when he entered he immediately stumbled into the storeroom where he released the Water Stones and King's Rocks onto the tabletop. Mr. Andies followed a short while after with an appreciating grin; he clapped Wade on the shoulder as he inspected the evolution pieces. As he did so, Wade noticed a plastic bag in the corner of the table, a bag that gave off tempting waves of spices and chicken.

"Nice job, Wade!" Mr. Andies said. "You must be tired; I had Thomas order us food-to-go for dinner." He reached for the plastic bag and handed Wade a striped box. "Hope you're in the mood for chicken."

As irresistible the aroma coming from the swollen box was, Wade really couldn't bring himself to eat. "I'm not really hungry, sir, I just…"

A growl. Wade blinked. Embarrassed, he stared at the doorway and tried not to look like an idiot. Mr. Andies just sighed as he pushed the box into his hands.

"You really should get something into that stomach before it goes on strike." He placed a hand on Wade's shoulder as he led him out if the storage room. "Why don't you go upstairs so you can have some peace and quiet? And don't bother going down to help; we've got things covered. Besides, you'll need all the rest you can get for tomorrow."

"… Thank you."

Mr. Andies almost tripped. "Uh… well… you're welcome."

"Is… is Skye home, yet?"

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him come in. You know him, it's hard to pull him out of something when he's having a grand time."

As Wade neared the stairs, he dodged a Hi-Potion that flew his way and watched in amusement as an exasperated Lilibeth went after the hurled item, which Smiley had fortunately caught. Once in the room, he left the box of food and the Swablu's pokéball on the cabinet beside the framed photograph, stripped his shirt, and acquired a pair of light blue pajama pants adorned with Wailmer spouting water from his drawers. Stepping into the bathroom, he shed the rest of his clothes, turned the shower on, and let the cool water course through him. He went through the motions of taking a bath mechanically; he didn't even remember lathering his body with soap, turning the shower off, or putting on the pajamas pants. His hair still dripping wet and the towel draped around his shoulders, he left the bathroom. Feeling like he had been hit by a Giga Drain, he reached the side of his bed and allowed his legs to give way.

And for the remainder of the night, his eyes unseeingly watched the night sky as he was consumed by memories of Wade Consable.


	10. Chapter 9

Author's Notes_  
Here's Chapter 9._

_I'm sure that numerous fanfic authors have used the concept of trainers using pokémon powers. I give them a name in this fic, something I'll be using all throughout. You could say that it's my own take on an idea that some writers are bound to use in their fics._

_With that done, on with the show!_

_Oh, and I don't own pokémon. Please don't sue me, I don't have a single centavo. :D_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 9**

When Skye entered the room he shared with Wade, he was immediately alarmed. Facing away from him and staring towards the window was the brown-haired youth, slumped against the side of his bed with his hair still wet and a towel carelessly swathed over his shoulders. He was shirtless, with only a pair of light blue pajama pants clothing him.

The last time he had seen him like this was six and a half years ago. For several months after they had taken him in, Skye had often found the other like this, unspeaking, unmoving, unseeing, as if the world had deprived him of a reason for life. It had taken his and his father's combined efforts to snap him out of it. He spotted the box of food on the cabinet to his left, and his alarm rose to new heights. Not good, he hadn't touched it at all!

Skye walked towards Wade's bed and climbed on it. He placed the paper bag he was carrying on one of the pillows and took a comfortable position behind Wade. Taking the towel on the other's shoulders, he gently rubbed it on his hair, just like he did all those years ago whenever he found him like this. When Wade didn't resist, he continued with a little more confidence.

"You'll catch a cold," he said, his voice slightly above a whisper. When Wade didn't answer, he proceeded to tell him what had happened, still in that quiet voice. "I modified Mr. Higgins's memory so he won't go flapping his tongue to Officer Malone and blab about anything that might lead to us. Then I rigged everything so that anyone looking into the Mudhouse would think that those goons had argued so bad that they knocked each other out.

"The police are probably still puzzled about how to return the stolen goods to the right salesmen. I really wouldn't be surprised if those dealers claimed a few more stolen pokémon to increase their chances for profit." Skye chuckled. "The thugs are a laughingstock; people are still joking about how their own disagreements landed them in jail—"

"Will you shut up?"

The towel stopped moving.

"How in the world am I supposed to say I'm sorry if you keep gabbing there all night?" Wade muttered.

It took a while before Skye found his voice. "You don't have to say anything," he said as he resumed drying Wade's hair. "I got enough from what that chubby chef was saying."

"Either way, that doesn't excuse the fact that I acted like a complete jerk."

Skye was tempted to remark, "But isn't that your usual disposition?" but wisely decided against it.

"You were right. They… they aren't worth soiling my hands over."

"But you had every right to be angry, Wade," said Skye; he wanted to make sure that that was clear. "I know _I'd_ be squashing that obese lunkhead if he'd dissed _my_ mom."

Wade laughed softly. "What, you'd blow him away with that fancy thing you did out there in the plains? Give me a break."

Skye was stunned. Not at the fact that Wade had brushed aside his Flying powers as if he saw those kinds of things everyday, no, nothing as historic or earth-shaking as that.

For the first time in his life, he heard Wade genuinely laugh.

"Skye?"

"… Huh?"

"… Are you angry? … I really am sorry."

_He's scary when he's like this…_ Skye dropped the towel, reached for the paper bag on the pillow, and brought out three transparent boxes. He handed the one with the vanilla chiffon to him.

Wade turned and regarded him with wide eyes.

"You kept looking at those cakes that were being displayed at The Great Gardevoir," Skye said with a shrug. "I never pinned you as the type to have a sweet tooth, but well, apparently you do have one. I got that vanilla chiffon, a chocolate strawberry mousse, and a blueberry cheesecake." He carefully disassembled the box holding a palm-sized treat that, although covered outside with brown icing, contained a strawberry-filled promise inside. "You could say it's my way of apologizing for… for getting in the way." He hoped that Wade hadn't detected that nervous tremor in his voice.

Wade reached for one of the plastic forks in the paper bag and tasted the mousse. He smoothed the fork against the chocolate icing and licked it off. Afterwards, he glanced at the box of spiced chicken on the cabinet.

"There's something I want to give you."

Skye hadn't noticed, but there was a pokéball beside that box of food. It floated slowly toward him and fell on his lap.

"What's this?"

He received Wade's trademark annoyed look. "Do you have to ask that every time I give you something?" The other turned back to gaze at the window. "Open it."

Skye smiled. He couldn't believe that this was happening. "You didn't have to do this."

"Will you just pop it open already?" Wade growled.

Skye swallowed. "Right."

He released the pokémon inside, and what he saw took his breath away. An adorable, cotton-winged, blue bird that could have been mistaken as a stuffed prize at the carnival peeped inquisitively at him. He gingerly raised it up in the air like a trophy and made appreciative noises. It then flapped up to his head and ensconced itself in his hair.

"It's so cute! Thanks Wade!"

Wade observed the Swablu a little longer. He set the mousse on the floor beside him and returned to gazing out the window. "That's my way of saying sorry."

Skye was tired; his brain felt like goo and every muscle in his body screamed for rest. He had expected a tense and awkward encounter when he came back home from the Mudhouse, something that would be aggravated by his exhaustion. He had imagined all kinds of scenes in his head where he apologized to Wade for being intrusive in his affairs, and where he promised that he'd give him his space and maintain an appropriate distance.

Things had a funny way of turning everything topsy-turvy, it seemed.

"Skye?"

"Yup?"

A pause. "… Did you really call the wind?"

- x x x -

Skye was silent for so long that Wade thought that he hadn't heard the question. Waiting for an answer and not in any hurry to get one, Wade levitated the box of spiced chicken into his hands and removed the cover. But he didn't touch the aromatic morsels; he simply picked at them with the same fork he used for the chocolate-strawberry mousse.

_Is it really that uncomfortable to talk about for him?_ he thought to himself. Must be the reason why he was taking so long to reply. If this was his secret… Then it only made sense to divulge his own, didn't it? So that the trade would be fair. And since he was the one who had asked Skye, perhaps he ought to take the initiative.

_Here goes nothing…_

"My mother was a barmaid," Wade began softly. "Her name was Analyn Kellison Mody. As for my father… you've met his henchmen. He's the leader of a syndicate named after him. Quodo Consable."

"Wade—" There was an unexpected gentleness in the other's voice. Wade felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. "There's no need for this."

He went on, anyway. It was hard to stop, and it wasn't long before the full story came out. How Wade had been raised by his morally strong mother, and how he had been ill-treated by his morally weak father. How his mother had died, and how his father had tried to subvert him to his dishonest ways as the leader of a group of thieves. How he had eventually been forced out since his mother had taught him too well, kicked out by a man whom he had hoped would some day mend his ways. He told Skye the other stories, like about Jacobson's deception, about his first pokémon, and about his succeeding pokémon's pasts.

When he was finished, Wade had his knees against his chest and his arms tightly around his legs. The chicken lay untouched beside him; it was growing cold. He tried to steady his labored breathing, but he only succeeded in making himself lightheaded. Both of Skye's hands were on his bare shoulders. His ears caught a sound that he didn't recognize at first, and when he did he turned to look in disbelief at the other.

"Why… why are you crying?"

Skye rubbed his face with the back of his hand. "I can't help it. I guess… I guess I feel so bad for you."

The corner of Wade's mouth twitched towards a wry smile. "You're too nice."

"Things like that aren't meant to be carried by yourself," Skye managed between sniffs. "The world's just too wide and lonely a place for you to do that. I may never understand the things that you've gone through, but that doesn't mean I can't lend an ear to what's bothering you, right?"

"Quit blubbering," Wade said, though there was no bite in his tone. "Here." He floated one of Skye's pillows towards him so he could wipe his face. Though if he wanted to blow his nose on it, that was his problem.

_He's really like this, I guess,_ Wade thought in wonder. There truly was kindness outside of his mother's in this world.

"Just a minute," Skye said. He leapt off the bed and dashed into the bathroom, where Wade heard him blow his nose and wash his face.

A few minutes later, Skye was back on the bed. His eyes were still a bit red, but at least they weren't leaking anymore. He closed them, and his forehead furrowed. Wade felt that something was going to happen.

A miniature column of air suddenly rose from his palm. Wade edged closer until his nose touched Skye's fingers. It _did_ look like a Gust attack!

"You know how psychics can do stuff that ordinary people can't, right?" Skye said. "Telekinesis, telepathy, empathy, clairvoyance, precog, retrocog, and all those. Well, there are a restricted number of psychics who can do something more. Some have an intrinsic link with a particular type of pokémon, and it enables them to use the techniques of and mentally communicate with the same type. An author, Miles Halliwell, happened to stumble across one such person who had a Fire affinity, though she wasn't able to get much data since the guy fled once he saw her. She coined up the term 'wielder' to refer to persons who could forge such bonds with a particular type of pokémon."

"So that explains why you can use Gust attacks?" Wade asked. "You… you have this link with Flying pokémon? Wait. Was that how you were able to speak to my Gyarados?"

Skye nodded. "The Flying type encompasses a lot of other types, not only birds."

"That must have been how you were able to track that Murkrow into the Mudhouse!"

"Right again."

Wade was getting worked up. "Just a minute. Why is it that I can do the same thing with my pokémon?"

All of Skye's attention was suddenly riveted to him. "What do you mean? You can use their attacks?"

"No. I mean, I can talk to them with my mind. It's not surprising for my Slowbro and Slowking since they're Psychic pokémon, but what about my Gyarados? The Horsea and Sneasel that I just got? How come I can hold perfectly normal conversations with them?"

"… I didn't know that."

"Well you do now, genius."

"I don't know. Go ask this Halliwell woman. Besides, it's not like you can bump into wielders across the street any time of the day. If you think psychics are rare, you got another thing coming with wielders." Skye abruptly peered at the box of spiced chicken then raised an eyebrow at Wade. "Hey, if you're not eating that, I'm taking it."

The box was instantly in Wade's protective fingers. "Touch it and I'll feed you to Gyarados." He quickly shoveled its contents into his mouth without a care if he choked.

"It's nice to know you're feeling better."

"Go kiss a Qwilfish," snapped Wade. Half of the box was already gone, but it had done little in satiating that gnawing sensation in his stomach. "Anyway, how'd you find out that you were a Flying wielder in the first place? You suddenly felt like playing with the weather or something?" When he saw Skye slicing the blueberry cheesecake into equal parts, his hand darted out to get it. "Hey, that's mine!"

Skye gaped at him. "You're not seriously considering finishing all three cakes tonight, right?"

"Why not?"

Skye shot him a disgusted look. "You must have been a Snorlax in your past life."

Wade pointed the fork at him. "Well? How'd you find out you were a wielder?"

Skye popped a chunk of blueberry cheesecake into Swablu's beak—the bird was still on Skye's head! Wade hoped that it laid an egg on him—before taking his own bite. "I met another wielder a little before I met you seven years ago."

"I thought you said that wielders are rare."

"I thought so too. But there he was in Coast Woods, yelling for help. I ran as fast as I could, expecting to come to his rescue, but it turned out that I would need rescuing, as well. The moment I got to where he was, there was this cloud of green dust around him. When I saw the unconscious forest pokémon around him, I realized that that green dust was a Sleep Powder. You could imagine my surprise when I saw that it was coming from his body."

"It was coming from him?" Wade repeated skeptically. "How sure were you that it didn't come from the pokémon living there? If I'm not mistaken there are Oddish that reside in Coast Woods."

"I didn't exactly have time to think about that," Skye answered. "Besides, the Sleep Powder was precariously heading my way, and by the time I realized that it was already too late. I had no chance of escape. The first thing that came to my mind was, I needed a gale to disperse that powder. I fanned at the dust, and out they came. Three Gust attacks."

"So you blew the Sleep Powder right back at the guy," said Wade, his tone flat. "Real smart."

Skye laughed nervously. "Uh… something like that. At least he stopped spewing that Sleep Powder, right?"

Wade rolled his eyes. "Then what?"

"I brought him home. Told Dad that he got sprayed by Sleep Powder from wild Oddish."

"Hmm…" _That wasn't really far from the truth..._

Skye fed Swablu another piece of cheesecake. "When he woke up, we talked. Telepathically, of course, since Dad was there fussing over him like an old grandma. I found out that that was the first time he had used the Grass technique. Kinda like me. We became friends after that."

"What's his name?"

"Guido Redspike. He and his folks live in Ochre."

Wade set the empty box on the floor beside him and started on the vanilla chiffon. The cake wasn't overpoweringly sweet, and he liked it that way. There was a hint of white chocolate in the icing, which he rolled around in his mouth with his tongue. "We're keeping all this stuff between us, right?"

"I think that would be best for now."

Wade buried the fork in the vanilla chiffon. "So this Guido trains pokémon?"

"Yup. Last time I saw he had a Jumpluff, a Ledian, and a Lombre. Basically pokémon you find around the island."

Wade's love for Water pokémon tugged at him. "Where'd he get the Lombre?"

"I think he caught it when it was still a Lotad in the oasis in Ochre. If I remember correctly there are also Poliwag living there."

Wade allowed a small smile to curve his lips. In the past seven years, the possibility of catching more pokémon had never crossed his mind. The reasons were vague memories that had accumulated over the years: too much brooding over the past, a lack of confidence that told him he could never do it, uncertainty about his future, and so many other explanations that had previously haunted him. Yet now, the very prospect of catching all those Water pokémon infused such an enthusiasm in him that he could barely wait for the next day. He wondered what had changed.

"We have store duty tomorrow at seven, right?" Skye said.

"So?"

Skye gently brought down Swablu from his head and scratched it under its beak. It cooed contentedly. "Feel like training our new team members before that?"

Wade collected the trash and stuffed them into the paper bag on his bed. "Only if you can wake up at five."

Skye grinned. "You know me all too well."

"Though it won't really be a problem if you can't. I'll just have Slowbro wake you up with a Surf. And if that won't bring you up, Gyarados will be all too happy to bash you with an Aqua Tail." Skye just laughed at this.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" The long-haired blonde fished out two pokéballs from his pocket and enlarged them. "Remember the crates of Murkrow back in the tunnel?" He tossed one of the red and white spheres to Wade.

Wade inspected the pokéball and arched an eyebrow at the other. "You didn't."

Skye still had that insufferable grin. "You'd think that those blockheads would train them, but no. I returned the rest to the wild but kept these two. Figured we could train them into powerhouses. It'll be sweet showing those Consable goons how to properly train the pokémon they're so fond of using."

Wade had to admit, there were moments when Skye didn't act like an idiot. Unfortunately, such times were so few that they ought to be preserved in a safe for being so priceless.

"This one here's a special bird," said Skye, indicating the pokéball he was holding. "I was about to release it to the wild except that I recognized it as an old friend." Wade shot him a look that questioned his sanity, so he quickly elaborated. "It's the same Murkrow that stole my watch on that rainy day seven years ago."

Wade smirked. "Are you saying that it's that Murkrow's fault that I met a schmaltzy featherbrain like you? What a moron." He levitated the paper bag with the empty containers into the trash can then stood up. "Now get off my bed. If we're waking up early tomorrow to train, we better hit the sack."

"You want to sleep already?" Skye exclaimed incredulously. He hopped to his bed and fell inelegantly on the pillows. Chirping happily, Swablu fluttered back on its trainer's head. "But there's so much I want to know! Like why do you like Water and Dark pokémon so much? What's with you going gaga over those cakes? What levels are your pokémon? I'm guessing they're around the same as mine, in the fifties. Where'd you get your ear pierced? And since when did _you_ find out that you were psychic?"

"You're supposed to be exhausted!" Wade snapped. "Go to sleep!"

"I don't wanna."

"Can you at least _pretend_ to be sleeping? You're giving me a headache."

"Let me guess, you like that chocolate-strawberry mousse the best, am I right? Am I right?"

"No, I—"

"Where do you think we should eat breakfast tomorrow? I'm sure all that training will work up an appetite!"

Wade sighed. Why was Skye suddenly so animated? May as well humor the idiot. He dealt with the onslaught of inquiries with one answer at a time, though some of them required such lengthy elucidation that he lost track of the hours.

Before he knew it, it was well past midnight. So much for that rest.


	11. Chapter 10

Author's Notes_  
Hallo! Here's Chapter 10. Thanks to all those who've reached reading this chappy. Cookies for all of you! :D_

_I had to revise Chapter 10, because the previous version was a little unrealistic for me. Between a trainer who's had his pokémon for quite a while and one who just got them, who usually wins? Though I'm not saying that the former should; it's just more logical that way._

_I don't own pokémon, okay? Wade, Skye, Guido, Shore Island… they're all mine, though. :D_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 10**

"Wake up!"

"… Huh…?"

"Get up, Featherbrain!"

Skye blinked sluggishly at him. Wade growled something nasty before jabbing him hard in the ribs.

"There's no sun yet," Skye whined. He glanced at the digital clock; a red four-thirty a.m. glared back at him.

"Whose fault was it for sleeping at two?" Wade snapped.

"Okay, okay, I'm up…"

Wade rolled his eyes. He clicked the light open then acquired a khaki vest and a pair of denim shorts with ragged edges from his drawers. Afterwards he brought out Horsea, which immediately pogo-bounced on Skye's bed.

"If he isn't up by the time I'm done showering," Wade told the Water pokémon, "splat a Smokescreen on him." The Water pokémon seemed irrepressibly thrilled at this. Skye burbled an incomprehensible protest.

Once Wade was in the bathroom, he stripped and turned the shower on. Two hours of sleep could drive any one to a tired tetchiness, but for some peculiar reason he felt full of verve. And that was even _before _the cold shower. It was as if there was something to look forward to this day, but he just couldn't pinpoint what. Not for the first time, he wondered what heavenly force had suddenly decided to bequeath him an optimistic disposition.

[You're so cute when you're like this,] Gyarados barbed at him. Wade could picture the Atrocious pokémon's toothy grin all too clearly in his mind.

[I have no idea what you're talking about.]

[Hurry up so you can kick Skye awake. But after Horsea Smokescreens him, of course.]

[I like your vicious sense of humor.]

Wade walked out the bathroom wearing the pair of ragged denim shorts. He smirked. Skye was sitting on the bed and was so groggy he didn't notice that his shoulder-length hair was sticking out in weird angles. On his lap sat his clothes: a sky blue shirt and a pair of jeans. Wade raised his palm and focused a little mental power into Skye's garments, which suddenly flew into his hand.

"What the—!"

"Horsea, changed my mind. Bubble."

Squealing like a lunatic, Horsea fired a volley of bubbles at the long-haired youth. Skye balked.

"You awake now?"

His answer was a glower. Skye stood up, yanked his clothes from Wade's hand, and stomped into the bathroom.

"Nice one, Horsea!"

A few minutes later found the both of them putting on accessories and footwear. Wade was fiddling with his Eevee anklet and tying the shoelaces of his white walking shoes, while Skye had just fastened his wavy bracelet to his wrist and was slipping into his sandals. Grabbing their backpacks that were propped against the side of their cabinet, the two tossed Potions, Antidotes, Paralyz Heals, Revives, and a few berries inside. Wade then placed his hand on the other's shoulder, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

When he blinked them open, the familiar ceiling and walls of their bedroom had been replaced by the sky, a cobalt expanse covered thinly in dark clouds and strewn with stars. The wind carried a hint of wildflowers, a heady perfume from the south, and it rustled the ankle-high grass that surrounded them. A wall of towering trees loomed as if to block vagrants from progressing any further, and in the darkness the branches seemed to reach for them like ghostly arms.

"This is the reason why I never train in the dark…" Skye mumbled.

"I usually did my training at night," Wade said as he looked around.

"I guess that's how you got Umbreon."

Wade strode away from the trees. "We can start here. Once we're done, we'll take the woods."

Skye perked up at the thought of staying out of the forest until the sun rose. Eager to get their training on the road, he hurled a pokéball high into the air and released a black shape that blended well with shadows of the night. The pokémon sported a fedora-like top that suited a greedy nature bordering on kleptomania. It cawed rambunctiously.

[Well, hello there!]

Wade started. He eyed the suspicious Murkrow. [Did… did you just talk to me?]

[No, it's your conscience speaking.] Wade could have sworn that the scruffy bird had rolled its eyes. [You look like a smart, scrappy lad. Why don't you act like it?]

"Skye… your bird's talking to me." _More like, insulting_.

"Really? What's it saying? Oh…" Suddenly, a wide grin split Skye's face into two. Wade had a feeling that the two featherheads were having a private conversation. One that he most likely wouldn't want to hear. "Yes," Skye continued, "he can be like that…"

"Like what?"

[Never mind,] the Murkrow answered. [So how have you been, Eevee-boy? The world treating you better than it did all those years ago?]

[Go talk to a Slowpoke,] Wade growled mentally. The Dark-Flying pokémon simply cackled.

Wade had initially planned to train his own Murkrow first, but if he was going to deal with this kind of tomfoolery then he might never touch it at all. Unfortunately, his curiosity got the better of him. He wondered if he'd be able to communicate with his Murkrow in the same manner as Skye's. Against his better judgment, Wade brought out the Dark-Flying pokémon. The bird cocked its head at him.

[One insult out of that beak and I'm pulling all your feathers out,] Wade flatly told it. Murkrow replied with a sincerely befuddled expression.

An orange tint crept into the sky from behind the horizon and invaded the dark blue. Wild pokémon answered the morning's beckon. The resident Pidgey, Hoppip and Ledyba launched themselves into the air in search of food, a mate, or a trainer to pester, and when they spotted the two teenagers they promptly fluttered around them. Joining them were a few Rattata, their heads popping out from the grass to scrutinize the intruders.

[Murkrow, Peck. Go for the Hoppip; they won't do anything to you.]

[Really, now?]

Wade nearly sighed. Did all Murkrow have to be mulish?

The two black birds turned into twin projectiles as they showered the native pokémon with Pecks and Pursuits. Surprised screeches and squawks flew into the air as Hoppip, their red round bodies falling like deflated balloons, and Ledyba, their six appendages floundering, lost to the Dark-Flying onslaught. The Pidgey and Rattata, not having a type disadvantage, lasted longer, but defeat remained inevitable as the two Murkrow grew more formidable.

"How were you able to make your pokémon so strong, Wade?" Skye asked, his eyes still at the massacre before him.

Wade shrugged. "I had to, or I'd go crazy. Training was the only thing I could run to every time I felt… I felt helpless." A twisted smile formed on his face. "Besides, you'd have powerful pokémon too if you'd been training for seven whole years."

Skye edged farther from the forest. Wade trailed behind, leaving a stream of unconscious meadow pokémon in their wake. A few minutes later, Skye brought out his Swablu. Wade followed suit and released Horsea. What Horsea drenched with its Water Gun attacks, Swablu finished with relentless Pecks. A knocked out Rattata hurtled towards Wade's position; a quick leap to the side prevented the forthcoming collision.

"Hey Wade," said Skye as he pointed in the distance. "Trainers!"

Wade's eyes followed Skye's finger. Looks like the two of them weren't the only idiots with the intention of training at such unholy hours. A hasty ocular inspection revealed around eight to ten individuals sporting pokéballs attached to various parts of their person: belts, vests, handbags, bracelets, even a choker for one of the teenage girls. Being the extrovert that he was, Skye rushed toward the newcomers to greet them and perhaps hook himself up with a battle. As for Wade, he did what he usually did around strangers: ignored them all.

Except that one of the guys, a teenager with a tangle of indigo hair and wide glasses that didn't look like a good combination with his muscular arms, abruptly confronted him and declared, "Let's battle now! Marshtomp, it's clobbering time!"

Wade was faced with a blue creature with fins on its head and legs, as well as orange gills on its cheeks. It clapped and skipped, keen for a win.

_Not good… my pokémon aren't that strong yet, and it wouldn't be fair to use any of my level fifties…_

[Why not?] asked Gyarados impishly.

"The name's Iram," the beefy boy said. "Think you can beat my Marshtomp?"

"It's a Water type…" Wade said, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had never seen or heard of one before.

"Yup," Iram said. "I'm from Hoenn. You can pick its pre-evolution as one of the starters there. So, we gonna battle? Though I'm sure Marshtomp doesn't mind all the attention."

Barely stifling a scowl, Wade made a few quick calculations. Only one pokémon, huh? Maybe… just maybe…

"Alright Horsea, you're up." [This is going to be a tough battle.]

The blue squirt took its position in front of Wade and shot a glare at its finned foe.

"Marshtomp, let's go! Mud Shot!"

The bulky pokémon aimed its opened mouth towards Horsea and fired a blob of mud. Was it a Ground type, as well? That would certainly make Horsea's attacks more functional. Wade commanded a Smokescreen, which his Water pokémon jovially executed since the accuracy-reducing move seemed to be a favorite. Marshtomp batted at its eyes in a futile attempt to clear its vision, but Iram wasn't daunted. He ordered another Mud Shot, and when Horsea was struck it struggled to move as the muck hindered its motions.

_What's wrong with it? _"Let's go on the offensive, Horsea!" Wade called. "Water Gun!"

Horsea sprayed its opponent. The attack forced Marshtomp backward, but the finned pokémon maintained its balance. Another Mud Shot blasted into the air, and Horsea was down. Wade quickly ran to its side and gently brought the poor pokémon into his arms.

"You'll get 'em next time," he cooed. "Rest up; you did great." After returning the Water pokémon, he brought out Sneasel. The feisty feline slashed the air as if fighting an imaginary enemy.

[Horsea has set the stage for your win, Sneasel,] Wade told it. [We better not waste its efforts.] "Screech!"

"Let's switch attacks," Iram said. "Water Gun!"

Sneasel released an ear-shattering battle shriek. Dazed, Marshtomp tottered and nearly fell, but that didn't stop it from letting loose a jet of water from its mouth. It was then that Horsea's Smokescreen kicked in; the Water technique went way off target. Wade had Sneasel retaliate with an Ice Punch, which was much more potent after the Screech attack. The Sharp Claw pokémon lunged with its claws extended, and when the Ice attack struck a frosty fog accompanied by ice splinters emerged for a brief moment. Marshtomp shuddered and looked ready to fall but kept its ground.

"Not good, not good," Wade muttered.

"Fire another Mud Shot, Marshtomp!"

The Water-Ground pokémon released another blob of mud, which shattered on impact and slowed down Sneasel's movements. Taking advantage of this, Iram ordered another Mud Shot, and that was it. Sneasel plopped down, unconscious. Wade jogged to his fallen pokémon and brought it into his arms.

"Let's get on with your next pokémon, then—"

"That's enough from me," Wade declared. Iram's forehead furrowed in puzzlement. He opened his mouth to point out that he still had some unused pokémon, but Wade rode over his words. "Murkrow's not ready to take on your Marshtomp. It'll get creamed like Horsea and Sneasel."

[But what about us?] Gyarados growled. [The Slow-twins, Umbreon and I could totally destroy that finned freak. Bring us out!]

[No. It wouldn't be fair.]

[And I suppose having Horsea and Sneasel battle Marshtomp was.]

[Let it go, Gyarados. This was my fault in the first place.] The Atrocious pokémon's answer was a rebellious silence.

Iram regarded him for a moment but finally nodded. Donning a sportsmanly smile, he took Wade's forfeit and clapped him on the shoulder. Wade flinched before he could stop himself. Without bothering with awkward apologies he recalled his two revived pokémon and mentally told them how sorry he was for miscalculating the situation.

"Hey Skye!" Wade called as he passed a baffled Iram and approached said blonde. "You ready to go to Coast Woods?"

Like him, Skye had just finished a battle. His Swablu had won with a combination of Sing, Peck, and Fury Attack, a barrage that the opponent, a bouncy gray Spoink, had failed to counter effectively. The Psychic pokémon was down on the ground with dizzy eyes and a twitching spring, and its pearl, a lackluster sphere that was almost the size of its head, had rolled off a few feet away.

Collecting his forfeit and waving a jaunty goodbye to his opponent, Skye trotted off after Wade, who hastily made his way towards the woods. A few minutes later found the two of them surrounded by dense foliage, stout tree trunks with small hollows hiding an occasional sleepy Venonat, prickly shrubs, and an almost overwhelming odor of wet grass and fresh soil. Faint beams of sunlight shot from the canopy of leaves above them, rays that made the shadows and shade dance like tribesmen around a bonfire. All around them leaves crunched, branches creaked, and footfalls lurked, all indications of pokémon moving about.

Skye heard a distinct quack. He immediately flittered about in search of the source.

"Farfetch'd!" he whispered excitedly. He brought out Swablu to help hunt for it. The blue pear-shape took to the trees for a better view.

While Skye was busy looking for the Normal-Flying pokémon, Wade occupied himself with reviving his fainted Horsea and Sneasel. He had just finished spraying the Revives on the two pokémon when a gale from behind nearly made him fall flat on his face, almost squishing Horsea and Sneasel in the process.

Wade turned around, his expression a death glare. Only to be left speechless as the spectacle before him played like a scene from an old movie: Skye running for his life as an angry gaggle of squawking Farfetch'd that had been blown by his churlish winds chased him.

"Have fun!" Wade called as the long-haired blonde ran screaming—and Wade had no idea if that scream was out of indisputable fear or imbecilic enjoyment—and disappeared into a thicket. Focusing his attention on Horsea, he directed the blue pokémon to bring down any pokémon that came into view, whether it be cute Teddiursa, hypnotic Drowzee, furry Venonat, or truculent Mankey. As for Farfetch'd, well, all the birds seemed to having the time of their lives pursuing his idiotic companion.

"Stay clear of Oddish," he cautioned his Water type. "I'll have Murkrow or Sneasel take care of those."

Several fainted Teddiursa later, Skye came back, still running like a madman with a nutty grin on his face and with the gaggle of annoyed Farfetch'd in hot pursuit. He then suddenly whirled around, released all new his acquisitions, and dived into the billowing mass of smoke, leaves, grass, and dust.

"Swablu, Peck! Yanma, Quick Attack! Murkrow, Pursuit!"

Afterwards, he flung another pokéball, which revealed his newly caught Farfetch'd. It sighted the scuffle and quacked in alarm.

"You can do it, Farfetch'd!" Skye cried. "Aerial Ace!"

Clutching its reed like a sword, it flapped its brown wings and charged into the fray with imperceptible speed. A flurry of indignant squawks burst into the air as the wild Farfetch'd fell one by one. After a few minutes of flat observation, Wade sighed and directed his own new team members to join the fracas.

[Horsea, Water Gun. Sneasel, Ice Punch. Murkrow, Pursuit. Clean up whatever Skye misses.]

The tussle went on. Wade saw Skye circle the skirmish, shout energetic orders to his pokémon, then afterwards shower them with effusive praise. The fight didn't take long. After the smoke had cleared and the leaves and blades of grass had fallen back to the ground, all the wild Farfetch'd were down. There were a couple of casualties on their side, though. Skye's Yanma was buried under a trio of unconscious Farfetch'd, its wings sticking out in odd angles, while Wade's Murkrow had its beak buried in the mud, its pristine black feathers caked with the disgusting brown substance.

"You've just wiped out the entire Farfetch'd population of Coast Woods," Wade wryly remarked as he approached the tangled heap of feathers and beaks.

"You mean, 'we,'" Skye corrected. He pumped his fist up and down. "Wade and Skye, one million points! The Furious Farfetch'd Fleet, two points!"

"Make that three," said Wade, rolling his eyes. "I don't see your Farfetch'd strutting around."

"Farfetch'd! Farfetch'd! No!" His arms flailing, Skye dashed around and peered under the piles of unconscious pokémon. "Where are you, buddy?"

Amused, Wade watched Skye flap his arms in a frenetic search for his new pokémon. He then extracted his fainted Murkrow from underneath a stack of reeds and cradled it into his arms.

[You did well. Rest up, now.]

[Wade,] Sneasel called in his mind. The brown-haired youth glanced at the Dark-Ice pokémon. His gut clenched. Sneasel seemed on edge. It peered at its surroundings as if expecting an ambush. Wade immediately returned Murkrow to his pokéball and heightened his own senses, scanning or listening for the slightest thing that was out-of-place.

"The woods are suddenly quiet," Skye softly observed.

The ground rumbled. It was a low-pitched hum that was indiscernible at first. The sound grew louder. Then the earth shook. Wade swallowed as he noticed that the trees were swaying, ready to crush them if their roots gave way.

"Sneasel, Horsea, return." Skye did the same with his pokémon.

The quake had startled the wild Farfetch'd out of their stupor; the birds quacked and scurried off in a panic. Wade roughly shoved the Teddiursa into wakefulness and snapped at them to find shelter. Terrified screeches and grunts filled the forest.

"We should go—" Skye began.

It was over so suddenly. Wade could swear that the rumble was still there, but when he listened for it he realized that it was gone. His nerves still sizzling, he watched the trees and the fallen leaves as if they could answer the sole question occupying his mind right now.

What just happened?

Earthquakes _never_ occurred on this island. Never. There were no nearby volcanoes, be they on remote islands or underwater, that could erupt to cause such tremors. Also, no wild pokémon on Shore Island was capable of using the Ground attack; they were just too young to execute such a powerful technique. It was why everyone didn't have to worry about the Ground types in Ochre Desert or in Coast Woods.

"I wonder if they felt that all the way in Ebony?" Skye muttered.

Wade shrugged. "Either way, we better get going." He placed a hand on Skye's shoulder and teleported them to the town Pokecenter—particularly the restroom so they wouldn't have to deal with dumbfounded tourists—to heal their pokémon, then back to their room.

And just in time. Because that was when the next earthquake rumbled through the woods.


	12. Chapter 11

Author's Notes  
_This chappy went way longer than I expected. When I was setting my goals for it, I didn't expected it to be this lengthy._

_As of this writing, I am now on Chapter 12. And… it's still blank. Ehehe. Though I have an idea how it's going to go (I think). I may not be able to work on it for the coming week since I'll be busy, so the next update may take a while._

_Pokémon's not mine. So aren't a hundred other video games that I'd like to buy but have no money (yet) to purchase. Life can be depressing sometimes._

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 11**

Allison knew that his day was off when he got to the storeroom and saw Skye and Wade wrangling over breakfast. The two were seated on the wooden table and facing each other like a pair of Persian hissing over a fish. Both wore blue jeans and sleeveless shirts, violet for Skye and black for Wade. A white apron was neatly draped over the back of each one's chair.

"You give me back that luncheon meat _now_!" Wade growled.

"But you didn't look like you were going to eat it," Skye said with his hands defensively in front of him. Apparently Allison had failed to teach his son not to talk when one's mouth was full.

"You won't mind if I do this, then." Like an Arbok striking its prey, Wade's hand darted to the other's food box and snatched the slab of luncheon meat sitting on top of the fried rice. He popped it in his mouth and swallowed.

"That's mine!" Skye retaliated by seizing the bottle of milk beside Wade and downing half of it in a few gulps. His tongue suddenly rolled out, and he looked like he was about to heave. "I forgot… I hate milk… Why in the world do you still drink that stuff, anyway?"

Wade airily grabbed the bottle and drank. He wiped the milk moustache off and smirked. "Serves you right. Besides, milk's good stuff."

"They've been like that since they got down from their room," Angeline whispered in Allison's ear. Her head was tilted to one side as she continued to observe the scenario with a pondering look.

"Don't you think it's a bit… odd, sir?" Lilibeth murmured in his other ear. For once, her oversized pair of glasses was perched evenly on her face.

"This merits observation," declared the two girls, their eyes glinting with spirited scheming. Allison shuddered.

Skye finally took notice of him. "Oh, hi Dad! Good morning!"

"Good morning, sir," Wade greeted with a nod.

"Hey Dad, can I ask a favor?"

"… Huh? Oh, what is it?"

"When we're done for the day, would you mind teaching my Murkrow Drill Peck? Wade's, too."

Allison made sure to keep his surprise in check. That was a first. Although he was a renowned move tutor in Ebony who focused on Water and Flying techniques, the boys had never enlisted such services for their pokémon training. And Skye and Wade had both caught a Murkrow? His mind briefly recollected the news report yesterday about the black birds causing enough mayhem to give the Fair officials a migraine.

"Sure. Are you going to evolve them?"

Skye looked stunned. "They… they evolve?"

Allison laughed. "Yes, they do, son. Though you need Dusk Stones to turn them to Honchkrow. They lose a little speed, but they gain quite a lot in their offense and HP. You'll have to plan their moves a bit, since Murkrow and Honchkrow each learn different techniques."

Skye seemed awed at his extensive knowledge on the Flying pokémon. Allison had half an urge to close that hanging jaw of his. "How do you know all that?"

He winked at him. "Trade secret. Now, better don those aprons, because we have a busy day."

Their first customers arrived as Skye and Wade were sorting the merchandise on the shelves. A troupe of adolescents barged into the pokémart—nearly knocking the door and wind chime off!—and rushed him. The pokémart owner was dead wrong if he thought that the counter would be enough of a bar to stop these kids from flattening him against the wall.

"You're a move tutor, right?" a chubby boy asked.

"What do you teach?"

"Do you take shards?"

Allison frantically fished for the leaflets in the shelves beneath the cash register and rapidly distributed them to the aggressive teens.

"There you go," he said, a little breathless.

The pokémart was suddenly quiet as the leaflets, which listed the techniques he could teach and how much each one was, were perused. That silence didn't last long, though.

"Teach my Swellow Roost!"

"Teach my Pelipper Roost!"

"I want a Water Pulse on my Glaceon!"

"Drill Peck on my Natu!"

"Aqua Ring! Aqua Ring for my Lombre!"

Allison gulped. "A… Alright, kids, no need to push…"

"Just line on up," Skye said as he approached them with a bunch of Water Stones in hand. He was probably still arraying them on the shelves.

"Are those Water Stones?" the guy with the Lombre asked. "I'll get one!"

And that was when a bunch of brawny men with burly backpacks and yellow hardhats came romping in. Fortunately for Allison, that was also when Wade finished arranging the goods. He immediately took the position behind the cash register.

"Hey, boy," one of the men greeted Wade. "D'you know if there're any wild Rock types on the island? We came from Kanto and were wonderin' if there're some new pokes here."

Skye, who had found his way behind the cash register—consequently crowding Allison and Wade—was the one who answered. "In fact there are!" he began cheerfully. "There's a forest up north—"

Allison's eyes widened, and that was about the extent of surprise that he was able to show. Had Wade just stepped on Skye's foot? That was some stomp! His son swallowed the rest of what he was about to say, along with, Allison had a feeling, a scream of pain.

"You could try the ocean," Wade said as if nothing had happened at all. "There are a lot of wild Corsola that you can catch by fishing or diving. Besides, the only thing Featherbrain here knows are where the birds are."

Allison gaped. But only for a moment, because one of the teens suddenly screeched, "Oh my gosh, they have King's Rocks!"

Thirty painful minutes later, Allison was done teaching his move tutor techniques, and the adolescents had finally left. As the door swung close, it nearly soared off its hinges again when another big man blasted into the pokémart. This one wore a crisp blue and green plaid shirt, tan slacks, and brown leather shoes that shined as much as his polished floors.

"Hello, Officer Malone," Allison greeted with a sigh. He hoped he wouldn't have to fix the door in the near future. Meaning, any time today. "What brings you here?"

The policeman laughed heartily as he removed his hat. "Heard the news, Allison? Pokémon have been disappearing the whole time yesterday. Right under our noses! Turns out they were being stolen. Your boys snared us a lead, and now the whole thing's wrapped up like a neat present."

Allison's eyebrows went up to his hairline. "And what exactly… did my boys do?"

Officer Malone helped himself to the countertop and sat on it. "Like I said, they snared us a lead. They battled and tied up one of the thugs. Caught the goon red-handed, they did!" He fished an envelope from his pocket and tossed it on the countertop. "Hey boys! I've got a little something for you from the salesmen. Seems they want to show you a little appreciation."

"Wow, is that a reward?" asked Skye, his eyes twinkling. "I—huh?"

The envelope had somehow found its way in Wade's hands. "I'll take it."

Skye sputtered a few words before spitting out something that made sense. "Hey! Isn't that ours? I mean, I know you were the one who beat the snot out of that thug, but—but—!"

Allison refrained from making any remarks and instead watched the two boys.

Wade smiled. Or rather, smirked, something that seemed to be part of his emerging personality. He offered the envelope to Skye, whose eyes widened into big saucers. "You keep it. At least we have something to get lunch later."

Thrusting a victory fist into the air, Skye whooped. "Lunch is on us!"

Officer Malone chortled. "Now, I hope you heroes don't mind if I go on with my shopping. Allison, I need ten Water Stones for my officemates. They got a bunch of pokémon to evolve from the Fair—there's Hewitt's Eevee, Dragger's Poliwhirl, Charlene's Staryu, and the bunch of Lotad that Ollie caught in Ochre Oasis."

"… Ten?" the pokémart owner asked faintly. Officer Malone might as well ask for half the stock. And it wasn't even lunchtime, yet!

"Of course," the large man added jovially, "I'll be asking for my usual discount."

Allison suddenly felt like sulking in a corner.

The morning was quite exasperating, what with it taking its sweet time to fade into noon. Allison lost count of the times that he had to avoid getting stampeded on by ten-year old kids who were eager to clean out his shelves. Not only that; he had also given up tallying the number of instances his boys had to diffuse impending pokémon battles, which often had a foregone conclusion: the destruction of some part of the pokémart. Now and then a Hi Potion or a Revive would totter down from its perch on one of the shelves, but fortunately Smiley the Teddiursa was always there to catch anything that might drop. With all the commotion storming around them he was surprised that Wade, being the tolerant and relaxed youth that he was—_not_—hadn't lost his temper yet.

Allison stole a glance at the brown-haired teen, who was at the moment rapidly punching the keys on the register. Then he took a look at Skye, who was ferrying boxes of items from the storeroom to their shelves. As his son passed by the counter he suddenly tripped over a stuffed Azumarill toy that a little girl with golden curls, bright blue eyes, and a frilly green dress was dragging around. Allison was about to lunge for the falling box when a couple of hands were just abruptly under it. Then he heard an annoyed growl.

"Hey twinkle-toes, you nearly squashed that poor girl's Azumarill doll," Wade roughly handed back the carton box.

"What about poor me? I could have tripped—"

But Wade was already in front of the little girl and patting her head. "Are you alright? Is your cute Azumarill fine? You don't have to worry; the big, scary oaf isn't going to hurt you anymore."

"Thank you, big brother," the girl answered sweetly. "Azu says thank you, too." She held out the doll to Wade, and he gave it a pat on the head, too.

"Now why don't you get us some lunch?" Wade said as he faced Skye with an arched eyebrow and a ghost of a smirk lurking behind his expression. The other just fumed.

"I want stir-fried noodles with lots of vegetables!" Angeline called as her face popped out from behind one of the shelves.

"Me too!" Lilibeth chimed as her own face materialized from the storeroom.

Allison continued observing the two boys before placing his own order. "Spicy squid with lots of chili."

"And I'll have fish and tofu with tausi sauce," Wade said. "Quit whining," he suddenly barked, giving Skye no chance to even heave a sigh. "Who was it that was clamoring to keep the money a while ago? Since you have it, you buy lunch."

"Heartless, that's what you are," Skye muttered. At Wade's flat gaze he cringed and hastily said, "Alright, alright! Let me just get something from our room…" And up the stairs he thumped.

Allison was still staring when he abruptly heard a giggle from his right.

"Did you ever think this day would come, sir?" Angeline asked as she fixed her black eyes on him.

"Who would have known?" added Lilibeth, her hand pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Wade was back behind the register, and just in time since the old ladies who had just entered were ready to pay. He adeptly punched in the values and handed the elderly customers their change and receipts, then bid them a good day.

Lilibeth voiced the very thought that had resolutely settled in Allison's mind.

"They're getting along quite well, wouldn't you say?"

"I wonder what happened?" Angeline asked.

Allison smiled. There was no need to find out, was there? After all, some things were better left unknown.

- x x x -

"Two stir-fried noodles with lots of vegetables, one spicy squid, one beef brisket, and one fish and tofu with tausi sauce."

After fifteen hot minutes under the sun, it was finally Skye's turn. Thank goodness for that; any longer and he'd be a puddle.

The takeout booth was an improvised kitchen that barred unauthorized persons from entering with canvas tied to supporting poles. Not exactly much of a block. The enclosed, roofed space was wide enough to house the bunch of chefs working—chopping vegetables, slicing meat—around two wooden tables. Sizzles and pops were loud in the air, and the smoke mixing with the cooking garlic and other spices almost made Skye's eyes water and his nose wrinkle. A Quilava, its orange, furry body giving off a sputtering flame, served as the stove, and when the chefs needed more heat it obliged them by spitting out an occasional Ember attack.

Skye found himself glancing at the watch of the cashier man. Was it twelve already? Maybe he wouldn't have taken so long if he hadn't returned Mr. Higgins's clipboard first. He had dropped the item in one of the shelves of the rival pokémart then left without as much as a word. Besides, they'd find it there and think that it had been misplaced.

"Would you like some of these red bean balls?" the cashier man asked as he showed a bunch of brown balls with lots of sesame seeds. "They're perfect desserts."

They did look enticing. "Alright. Give me a dozen." In case Wade got any weird ideas of filching Skye's share.

"Please wait here for your order. It'll arrive shortly."

Skye leaned against the booth pole and glanced at the next customer, who ordered a chicken-filled bread bun. He was probably in his early twenties and had an untidy jumble of black hair that looked natural on him, as if any grooming would ruin his entire countenance. A pair of red round studs hung from his ears, and they shone in the harsh sunlight. The color of the earrings clashed with his green eyes, which radiated a quiet calm. A black sleeveless hoodie showed off his wiry arms and his well-developed, slender build, and it seemed to meld with his dark blue jeans. His footwear was a surprise; instead of sporty rubber shoes or casual sneakers there were sandals strapped to those feet. Skye was about to dismiss him as a nondescript tourist…

Except that he could have sworn he had seen that messy jumble of black hair and calm green eyes before.

The man then fished out a box of cigarettes from his pocket, shook one out, and lit it. He took a long drag and puffed out the smoke, which joined the fumes floating from the woks.

So uncool.

"Here's your order, sir," the cashier man said, holding out two plastic bags filled with boxes. "The red bean balls are on top."

"Thanks."

Skye headed back for the pokémart. Unfortunately, that meant squeezing through a whole lot of crowds while carrying two plastic bags that were tormenting his appetite. Difficult thing to do, really. He momentarily stopped by a service booth and picked up a few Fair pamphlets, pieces of glossy paper that advertized events like the Preston Carnival, a water race, and the like. As he got on his way he was nearly ambushed by a dancing Ludicolo, challenged to a battle twice, and almost carried off by a swarm of fishermen that had just finished some competition—maybe a fishing contest? It didn't help that he was perspiring bullets due to the generous sunlight that the cloudless sky was tossing around. Still a ways from the pokémart, Skye decided to take a break in a narrow, quiet alley. He dropped his load and dragged up a tired sigh.

He reached for his wallet in his back pocket to check how much he and Wade still had left. Maybe they could use it to watch some of the attractions like the Ocean Dance or that carnival, or perhaps register for some competitions…

His wallet wasn't there.

He swallowed. He inspected his other pockets, but all they contained were his cell phone and the pokémart keys. Maybe he had brought along that envelope—

"Hey!"

Skye almost jumped. He swung around and came face to face with the guy in the black sleeveless hoodie. Slightly out of breath, he had his bread bun in one hand and a brown wallet in the other.

"This fell out of your pocket when you left the Oriental Quickstop," he said. His voice wasn't deep, but it exuded the same unruffled quiet that his eyes gave off.

Skye grinned sheepishly. "You just saved my life there. Thanks a lot."

"I had a handful trying to follow you around, and I lost you twice! Thankfully I got wind of that ponytail quite fast." The man offered a small smile. "You should be more careful. It's easy to lose a wallet with all these people milling about. Especially when you have lunch in tow."

Skye eyed the pokéballs strapped to the man's belt. There were six of them. "You're a trainer, huh?" At the other's laid-back shrug, he went on. "If you need any supplies, why don't you drop by the Andies pokémart. I'll give you a discount to show my appreciation."

"That's rather generous of you. I might take up on that offer some time, right before I go back."

"Where are you from?"

"I work in the Sinnoh region. I'm here for a vacation."

Skye decided to get a move on before Wade murdered him for being late with the food. "Well, it was nice meeting you. I have some hungry pokémart workers waiting for lunch, so…"

"No problem."

Skye grasped the two plastic bags and headed off, but not without a final "Thanks again!"

- x x x -

"What again do I have to do to evolve my Poliwhirl into Politoed?"

_Kiss a Qwilfish,_ thought Wade sourly. Was the brunette doing this on purpose to annoy him, or did she have some other diabolical plan in mind? Almost failing to suppress a sigh, he launched a repeat of his previous explanation, which was composed of two _simple_ steps. First, attach the King's Rock to the Poliwhirl. Second, trade. That was it! He hoped that the girl had enough brains to trade back the Politoed, because if not then he'd given her too much credit.

"Ooh," she said with a giggle. She placed one dainty finger on her lips, then asked, "So where else can we use a King's Rock?"

The door opened. Skye stepped in bearing two full plastic bags. Wade grasped the girl's shoulders, turned her around, then said, "Ask him. He knows a lot about them." Without bothering to wait for a reply, he snatched the bags of food—"What the… Are you _that_ hungry?"—and made his escape into the storeroom. And that was where he found Lilibeth poring over the inventory.

"That's the third one this morning," he muttered as he placed the plastic bags on the table.

Lilibeth glanced at him with a hint of a crafty smile. "Must be those arm muscles of yours," she remarked, her voice dripping honey.

Feeling the overwhelming weight of Gyarados and Umbreon's mad grins in his mind, Wade blushed and looked away. He went out the storeroom to look for the pokémart owner. It turned out that Mr. Andies had taken Skye's place with the brunette, who looked like she had just put herself in a predicament.

"And so," Mr. Andies was saying, "despite its capability to induce evolutions in the Poliwag and Slowpoke lines, with Poliwhirl turning into Politoed instead of Poliwrath and Slowpoke turning into Slowking instead of Slowbro, there exists the possibility of attaching the item to agile pokémon in particular, because doing so generates an advantage. Oh, you can always attempt to attach a King's Rock to some other pokémon, but in my opinion the greatest benefit emerges in putting them on the faster creatures."

"Wow, that's so amazing, Dad!" Skye gushed.

"Oh!" the girl cried out shrilly. "I didn't realize it was lunch time! I'll be going now, bye!" And she was gone before anyone could comment.

"Lunch is there in the storeroom, sir," Wade said. As always, Mr. Andies was excellent at mimicking an encyclopedia.

"But I'm not done yet with my explanation…"

A smile endeavored to curve his lips. "I wouldn't mind listening to them one time…"

Mr. Andies's eyes twinkled. "Really?" Wade gulped as the pokémart owner's hands gripped his shoulders tightly. "I've found a kindred spirit!"

Lunch occurred in two batches, and Skye and Wade opted to take the second group. While waiting for their turn, the ebb of customers remained as relentless as it had been the whole morning. Fortunately, not one of them wanted any move tutor techniques, so Mr. Andies was free to eat in peace. When it was finally their turn, they were able to finish their meals without any food getting pilfered.

The afternoon went by with the same Slugma pace as the morning. It started off with a fisherman, all dressed up in a life-vest, an angler's hat, black boots, and with his fishing gear in tow, coming in and grumpily asking if they had any Net Balls or Lure Balls. After which he went on about how fishing competitions were about luck, anyways, and not about how skilled a fisherman was.

"Men like Cassius Lummer get all the luck," he continued, still frowning. "Imagine catching a Wailmer!"

Wade knew that it was imprudent to ask questions since it would only fuel the man's tirade. Unfortunately, his love for Water pokémon and anything related to it got the better of him. "There was a fishing competition?"

"Were've you been, boy?" the man grumbled. "The Angler's Cup started at six a.m. this day and ended at about nine. The one who catches the biggest pokémon gets a whopping twenty-five thousand!"

"And this Lummer guy, he won, huh?"

"Ol' man Lummer won all that hard cash, plus a great pokémon. So, you don't have any of the balls? Aww, well, that's a drag. Some things aren't really meant to be: my win, and catching my own Wailmer." He sighed, a pitiable release of breath that made his appearance all the more wretched. "I'll be going, then."

Wade watched the man disappear behind the door. He'd sure love to join a fishing contest… Though to tell the truth, there was no need for it to be a competition, since fishing in itself was already fine for him. Wailmer, Corsola, Shellder, Magikarp, and Slowpoke from the oceans, then Poliwag and Lotad from the Ochre Oasis… Indeed, fishing in itself was just fine. But first he'd need to procure a rod.

By the time it was night, an irritable twitch had appeared on Wade's cheek. He had dealt with cantankerous old men who kept asking where the Deep Sea Exhibit was—"Are you going to tell us where it is or do we have to wait for tomorrow?"—only to find out that they actually wanted the Deep Sea Sub, which was a sandwich restaurant. Then there was that loon who kept asking for a pokémon battle, and it had taken Gardenbeast—Angeline's Oddish—and its Stun Spore to shut the guy up. Afterwards he had had to redirect a misplaced delivery, except that the mailman was so adamant that he ended up accompanying him to the police station, where the idiotic parcel was supposed to be. Not helping his growing vexation was Skye and his incessant nagging about seeing the Worm Dash the next day.

"What's so exciting about seeing Caterpie, Weedle, and Wurmple struggle their way to a finish line?" Wade asked with an arched eyebrow.

"It's a novel concept! Besides, the tickets are cheap. Plus, there's a raffle, and the prizes are any of the Bug pokémon! I want to get a Caterpie and a Wurmple."

The wind chime tinkled, but that didn't stop Wade from arguing.

"When _is_ this Worm Dash, anyway? It's pointless if it's in the morning. You know we have duty for half the day."

"… Um… excuse me…"

"That's why I chose it, since it's at one-thirty, right after lunch!" replied Skye excitedly. "I already called Camille and the others about it. She and Nico can join us, but Sarah can't since she's watching the carnival with her family."

Wade considered going, because that was the only way Skye would cease pestering him about it. "Let me guess, you get to bet on the participants, right? Any news on which one's the favorite?"

"Nope."

"Uh… excuse me…"

"Figures you'd be clueless," Wade muttered.

"So we're going?" Skye asked with a grin that was ready to explode into an exuberant whoop. "Then right after lunch—"

"Guido Redspike!" Mr. Andies suddenly greeted with a wide smile. "How are you, son? You haven't visited in quite a while. How old are you now? Let me think… Ah! Sweet sixteen."

Wade blinked. So did Skye. The two turned towards the door, and there stood a thin boy with a messy mop of black hair. His green eyes, which matched the gleaming emerald studs on his ears, shyly took in the entirety of the pokémart. A tan shirt hung loosely on his body, which, in Wade's opinion, needed more substance in there. Though being in his teens brought forth the development of some muscle, his skinniness still bordered on skeletal. Guido stepped inside, and Wade saw that his slippers looked like they deserved to be buried in a graveyard. Maybe he'd hint to Skye about giving him a new pair later.

"Guido!" Skye exclaimed as he wrapped an arm around the other's shoulder. "I haven't seen you in ages! How's my buddy?"

"You could do with a little more fat," Mr. Andies observed as he held up Guido's forearm to examine it. "Perfect timing, since Angeline just bought us dinner. You are _not_ leaving this pokémart without a good meal in you, alright?"

"I… I don't want to impose, sir."

"No worries, we'll take care of all the imposing," Mr. Andies said cheerfully. "Now come on, you can join the boys. The girls and I will hold up the front."

So… this was Guido. Wade had seen him a few instances in the past, but most of the time he didn't stay long. He would occasionally buy some supplies, chat with Skye for a while, or go train pokémon with him.

His eyebrows rose. Why was his hand suddenly clasping Guido's? It turned out that Skye had joined theirs and was looking like a proud mom while he was at it.

"You've met Wade, right? But I've never really introduced you guys to each other. Wade, this is Guido Redspike, my good buddy from Ochre."

[Ah, the one you sprayed Sleep Powder at,] Wade said in Skye's mind, to which the long-haired teen's eyebrow twitched. He was still smiling, though. "Hello."

"Hello, Wade."

That was when a billowy black mist appeared around Guido's head. Wade stared. He blinked, then the mist was gone.

The next moment Skye was driving Guido to the storeroom, where a feast of chicken bourbon, pork spareribs, paella, and mango bars was waiting. It took a while for Wade to regain his composure, and even after taking his seat beside the chicken bourbon he was still wondering if he had really seen that smoke-thing. He glanced at the other two and decided not to ruin Skye's good spirits by asking a question that would make him doubt Wade's sanity.

Wade silently gave Guido a paper plate and plastic utensils then poured him a plastic cup of orange juice. The other took the cup tentatively and seemed shy about helping himself to all the food. Skye, however, had no inhibitions about heaping Guido's plate with a mountain of paella topped with all the chicken and pork that could fit. Wade grabbed his share and lost no time in digging in.

"Do you still work at the docks?" Skye asked quietly.

Guido simply smiled, then swallowed another bite of chicken.

"Why don't you work here?" Skye continued. Wade had a hunch that the two had had this conversation before. "If you're worrying about a place to stay, we can always make some space."

"I'd feel embarrassed to—"

"And we keep telling you that it's fine."

"That's really kind of you, but I can't stay that long away from my parents." Guido looked away. "Father has a limp and needs help going about his usual activities in the house. Mother has enough on her hands with the house chores."

"About that… I just thought up of something that might make their lives a bit easier."

Wade had a feeling he knew what Skye was going to say. "Catch them a pokémon to help around the house?"

Skye glanced at him as if surprised that he was there. Wade gazed flatly back. "Exactly what I had in mind. You have no idea how helpful Gardenbeast and Smiley are around the pokémart. Those are Angeline's Oddish and Lilibeth's Teddiursa, by the way."

Guido seemed lost in thought as he chewed slowly on a pork sparerib. "I'll… think about that."

"Great! While you're musing on that, why don't you join us tomorrow to watch the Worm Dash? It's at one-thirty p.m., somewhere near the plains. We get off from work at twelve; why don't you join us for lunch?"

A rosy hue colored Guido's cheeks, and he looked down at the floor. "I'd really love to…"

"Of course you would! Any bug fanatic would go crazy about it. You were the first person I was thinking of when I first heard about the event."

"… But I can't. I have… I have work."

Skye looked crestfallen. "Can't you skip it?"

"I'm not sure… How much is the entrance fee?"

So that was it. Not giving Skye any opportunity to turn this into a more awkward situation, Wade said, "You don't have to worry about that. Skye'll take care of the entrance fees, mine included."

[I am?]

[You are. Just ride along for now.]

"That's settled, then," said Skye. "So we'll see you tomorrow?"

Wade's eyes widened before he could stop them. There was that black mist again! It slithered about Guido's face and around his neck as if to choke him. But that wasn't all. A triangular, yellow face with twin protuberances, one on each side, faded into view beside the thin youth's face for a moment, then disappeared. Wade shivered despite the heat. An Alakazam, but with black eyes that gleamed like jewels. What did it mean?

"—try to pass by if I have time," Guido was saying. "Who knows, I may be able to sneak a peek during work."

"I'm keeping my eye out for you tomorrow, then," Skye said with a grin.

Guido replied with his own quiet smile.

"… It's not like you to leave some food on your plate, Wade," Skye remarked after a while, his head cocked in mild concern. Wade blinked then shot the other a glower, which immediately disappeared when he was offered a mango bar. He stared at it for a moment before shaking his head.

"Maybe later. But if I find all those mango bars gone…" He let the threat hang in the air. Skye swallowed.

Guido stood up. "I have to go. I dropped by because… well…"

"Because we haven't seen you for such a long time," Skye finished for him with a smile. "At least we know you're alive. When was the last time we trained together? A year ago?"

Wade half expected the ghostly black mist to reappear, but it didn't. He kept silent as Skye saw Guido to the door, with Mr. Andies following and asking if they were going to see him again. The thin youth replied with a timid, "As long as it's not a bother." The door then closed, and Mr. Andies and the girls entered the storage room for dinner while Wade took a seat on the countertop.

"… Skye?"

"Yeah?"

A pause. He wasn't sure how he was going to ask about it. "Did you notice anything… different... while we were having dinner?"

Skye's forehead furrowed. "The food was just fine. And Guido seems a lot thinner than the last time I saw him… Why?"

Wade gazed at the door before hopping off the countertop. "Nothing, I guess."

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_Thanks to those who've reached this far! And a hundred more thanks to those who review. :D_


	13. Chapter 12

Author's Notes_  
Here it is, Chapter 12. It's one of those chapters that initially wasn't in my plans, but just popped out of nowhere like… like fungus. But now that I look at it, it's certainly no filler._

_The chapter seems okay with me, but I have this itch that it can still be improved on (just not sure what, yet). Decided to upload it in any case._

_I've found a couple of jobs for the month of November and will be a bit busy in the first half of the month. Hopefully I'll get time to work on this story in the second half (though you never know, my muse might just suddenly hit me on the head in the middle of work demanding that I not abandon my plotting, planning, and writing). I'll try to find time; after all, this ficcie certainly won't appreciate collecting dust._

_I don't own pokémon. But we __do__ have more than ten Shih-tzus in the house. Talk about walking rugs._

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 12**

Wade was glad that their final customer, a guy with thick-rimmed glasses and a pencil in his left ear, had his back turned to him. That way he could glare all he want. Did it really have to take one freaking hour to decide on a Water technique? Bubblebeam and Water Pulse had practically the same power; the difference lay in their secondary effects. The former could slow down the opponent; the latter could confuse it.

[I am extremely tempted to force both moves onto his pokémon,] Wade irately said in Skye's mind. [I wouldn't even mind paying. Just so he finally leaves!] The other didn't bother hiding an amused smile.

[What do you say to a quick trip back to Coast Woods?]

Wade shifted his glare to Skye. [Are you nuts? The only trips I want to take right now are to the bathroom for a shower and then to bed.]

Skye looked at the ceiling as if what he was going to say were written somewhere in the cream paint and the ceiling fans. [Don't you want to find out about that earthquake?]

Wade's eyebrows went up. [And how do you propose we do that?]

[I'll talk to the wild Farfetch'd. Ask if they have any idea what's happening. Besides, it's common knowledge that pokémon are much more in tune with nature than us humans.]

Wade was quiet before replying. Glasses-Guy was prattling about how beautiful his Delcatty and Seaking were, and that either Bubblebeam or Water Pulse would be the perfect move to showcase such a trait. He then released his Delcatty, a prim feline pokémon with a lithe body and a bud-like tail, and began showing off with Ice Beams and Flash techniques that, although made its fur shine, left a complete mess on the floor. Mr. Andies looked like he was going to cry.

[We should tell your father.]

[Or we could teleport there once we get to our room…]

Wade found his gaze on the floor. [I don't want to worry him when he finds the room empty.]

Skye didn't reply. Instead he kicked at the frozen part of the floor to break the ice and acquired a broom and dustpan from the storeroom. Feeling mischievous, Wade mentally slid the frozen fragments into the dustpan even before Skye could sweep them. The other shot him a horrified look that screamed, "Are you crazy?"

"Did you hear about that robbery at the Ocean Hall near the park?" Glasses-Guy was saying as he carried Delcatty and stroked its head. With his cheek. Wade's glare took on a more dangerous edge. "It jangles at my nerves knowing that a pokémon and its coordinator did their best in front of the judges, only to find out that their reward's gone missing! Awful, just awful!"

"When was it stolen?" Mr. Andies asked.

"Just this afternoon. And to think no one saw anything or anyone suspicious near the safes."

"A break-in?" Angeline said. "Mr. Andies, maybe we should have double-locks on our own cash boxes."

"This won't be good for the Fair officials," Mr. Andies murmured. "Malone's going to get busy again. He's always overworked…"

"Anyway, you know what?" The man returned his Delcatty and released an orange aquatic pokémon with graceful fins and a formidable horn on its head, a Seaking. But with glittering star-shapes on its fins. Wade wanted to vomit. "I think I'll get both."

Lilibeth and Skye weren't so successful in stifling a relieved sigh. Lucky for them, Glasses-Guy hadn't heard. Mr. Andies proceeded to the cash register and brought out a thin case from the drawer underneath it. He then slid out a device that resembled a black miniature CD and attached it to Seaking's forehead, after which it glowed a calm blue before returning to its original sooty color. "That's Water Pulse," Mr. Andies said before bringing out another mini-CD. "Now for Bubblebeam." After repeating the same motions, he patted the case as if it were a faithful pet then kept it.

With the task finished, the customer cheerfully returned his Seaking, shoved a hand in his pocket to extract his wallet, and—

And left the pokémart.

It was a full five seconds before realization dropped on them like a ton of bricks. But it was Wade who acted first. With a growl to make a Gyarados proud—[That's my boy!] the Atrocious pokémon roared in his head—he crashed out the door and hauled the idiot back to the pokémart.

"Release me this instant!"

"Not until you get your brain in gear and realize that you need to pay for services delivered," Wade nearly snapped. With an effort equaling that needed to budge a Wailmer from the ocean floor, he moderated his tone and used a more professional voice. "That'll be one thousand four hundred pokéyen, please."

The man had the grace to look abashed. "Oh. I thought it was for free…" He laughed nervously and handed the money over. Only then did Wade release him.

When Glasses-Guy was gone, Mr. Andies rounded on him and Skye, herded them to the storeroom, and faced them with hands on hips. Wade braced himself for an upbraiding for that earlier behavior, only to suddenly ask himself what Skye was doing there with him.

"Alright." At least Mr. Andies didn't sound angry. Of course, he could be fuming silently without showing any outward sign of it. "Explain how you got yourselves involved with catching a thief."

… Come again? At least, that was what he wanted to say. Thankfully it was Skye who answered. "We were in a shop yesterday when it happened. Caught the guy red-handed and chased him into an alley where we took him out in a battle. Then we called Officer Malone. We just couldn't ignore what had happened, it might've taken hours before Officer Malone or any other policeman could have arrived at the scene. By that time the thief could have been long gone…"

"This is my fault," Wade swiftly said as he stole a glimpse at Skye. All the oceans in the world would freeze first before he allowed an argument to ruin this more-than-perfect relationship between father and son. He didn't think he could bear living with himself if the reason why the two got angry at each other was him. Him and his stupid thirst for revenge. "I… I ran after the guy before Skye could do anything. He just followed to make sure that I would be alright."

Mr. Andies's hand moved. Wade flinched, his eyes snapping shut. That beating was coming any moment now, he was sure of it…

But the blow didn't come. Instead, he found a hand tousling his hair. His head jerked towards the pokémart owner, and what he saw drew a sharp intake of breath. Were there… worry and… relief in those eyes…? He turned to Skye to ask what was going on, only to find Mr. Andies's other hand ruffling the blonde's hair, as well.

Mr. Andies's hands moved again, and Wade cringed, expecting to be hit. Except that those hands had positioned themselves in front of him and Skye with palms up.

"Give me your Murkrow, please."

Still in the dark regarding the pokémart owner's intentions, the two nevertheless surrendered the pokéballs in question. Mr. Andies released the black birds onto the tabletop, where they immediately attacked the leftover paella. As gluttonous squawks flew into the air, he left the storeroom and came back with his case of move tutor techniques.

"I have no idea what came over you two, going after a criminal like that," Mr. Andies said as he applied a black mini-CD to Skye's Murkrow. He glared at the Dark-Flying pokémon, which were still pigging out with the paella, as if they were somehow at fault. "You could have been hurt. What if that thug had others waiting for him, and you were faced with an entire army of thieves?" He then attached the black device to the forehead of Wade's Murkrow. "What if your pokémon were overwhelmed? You chased him into an alley? If something had happened, no one would be around to get you help."

"Dad, I'm sorry. Really. I didn't think you'd freak out like this."

"I am _not_ freaking out," Mr. Andies said indignantly. "I'm… I'm… I'm…" He sighed and plopped on a chair. A grin suddenly bloomed on his face, and he scratched his head. "I _am_ freaking out, aren't I?"

"Totally." Skye had a stupid grin plastered on his face, too.

Mr. Andies grasped the two birds and handed them back to the two. Skye returned his, but Wade searched his pockets for some bills and handed them to the pokémart owner. He didn't get it at all when Mr. Andies suddenly laughed.

"You don't really expect me to ask you to pay, right? Besides, I can't growl the way you did back there with Delcatty-Boy." Wade stared. Mr. Andies pushed the money back to him and patted him on the head. That amused smile quickly converted into a concerned frown, though. "Wade? Is there something wrong?"

"Hey, don't make that face," said Skye, looking like there was another earthquake going to spring up any moment now. "What, don't tell me I should be getting a tissue or something. Cake?"

Wade' fist connected with Skye's arm. Hard. His fingers were still twitching when he returned Murkrow to its pokéball.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! You didn't have to fracture my arm!" The long-haired blonde grimaced and rubbed at the offended area.

"It's really cute seeing you two so close," Mr. Andies remarked, his smile glowing with some unidentifiable expression. At this pronouncement Wade's eyes grew into the size of dinner plates, while Skye offered a lighthearted shrug. "Anyway, let's get back on topic. The next time you feel like chasing down thieves or poachers or whatever else is out there, just make sure that your pokémon can handle them, alright?"

"But our pokémon _can_ handle them," Skye insisted. Even when his father arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him he plowed on. "We've been training for a long time, even before most trainers go on their journeys—"

"Would you care to prove that, son?" Mr. Andies asked with a conniving glint on his face.

"… Huh?"

"Because the only way I'm going to believe you is if you win in a pokémon battle. Against me."

"You are kidding me… You have pokémon, Dad?"

"Meet me outside. There aren't too many stalls there so we can have all the space we need. And snap your mouth shut or you're going to catch flies."

Despite Wade's weariness, his craving for a shower and a bed evaporated right then and there as Skye followed his father outside the storeroom. This was certainly an unexpected development. He watched as the two continued to banter and felt a pang inside, as if a heaviness had cloaked his heart and was suffocating it, something that he didn't understand. There was no reason to get depressed; after all, Mr. Andies hadn't been furious, and they hadn't been punished. Also, father and son were going to have a match, so there was plenty of reason to be excited. Wade just hoped that Skye wasn't brain-damaged enough to cheat with his loutish Flying powers.

Yet... why was he feeling so miserable?

Mr. Andies was descending the stairs with three pokéballs in hand. Wade hadn't even noticed that he had gone up. Angeline and Lilibeth squealed when they found out about the pokémon battle and scampered to the doorway for a good view. As Wade joined them, Mr. Andies and Skye positioned themselves a good distance from each other, with the latter excitedly tossing a pokéball in the air. Illumination was good; there were enough lit lampposts and shop lights to chase away the night. Around them people got wind of what was going to happen and took spots to watch, asking in whispers if the stage was truly being set for a battle.

"You ready, son?"

"You bet! I'll start with Swablu, my cherished gift from Wade!"

Wade shot a venomous glare at the moron. [Don't say unnecessary things!] he growled in the other's mind. Skye laughed, which nearly spurred Wade to enter the ring to kick him hard.

The blue cotton-wing appeared and trilled. Mr. Andies, donning a smile of his own, tossed his pokéball.

"I'll begin with Mantine!"

A large aquatic pokémon with a dark-colored dorsum and a lighter-colored ventral aspect appeared from the red incandescence. What probably gave the impression that it was rather big were its sizeable wings, which it flapped to stay afloat in the air. It cried, a high-pitched call that revealed an eagerness for a battle that its beady eyes could not seem to adequately convey.

Skye's smile left him. He studied Swablu's opponent and formed the same conclusion that had already taken shape in Wade's mind: it was no match for it. Mr. Andies, however, gave his son no time to make calculations; he quickly ordered a Water Pulse. The Water-Flying pokémon obliged with a blast of water from its mouth, which hit Swablu square in the face. The blue bird hung on, but with barely enough energy that Wade had a feeling it would get knocked out if Mantine blew air at it. Skye tried a Sing, but it didn't work. Swablu got punished for it with another Water Pulse, and that was that.

"Surprised that your old man can fight?" Mr. Andies asked with a grin. He was thoroughly enjoying his son's bewilderment. "Not bad for a pokémart owner, huh?"

Skye recalled his fainted Swablu, and then chortled like there was no tomorrow. That ache in Wade just grew deeper.

"I'll admit, you caught me off guard. But that will be the last time. Gliscor, let's go!"

The night-colored bat appeared and screeched, turning its glowing yellow eyes at Mantine as if sighting a blood meal.

"Are you sure about that, son? I hope you're aware of your type advantages."

"Which is why I'm going to relish my victory later, Dad. Begin with Swords Dance!"

The Ground-Flying performed a frenetic dance in the air as five or six glowing blue swords surrounded it like a palisade. Mantine shot another Water Pulse, and though the attack was known to be super-effective against Ground types Gliscor barely looked troubled at all. With a confident smile Skye directed his pokémon to execute a Wing Attack. Gliscor swooped at Mantine and batted its aquatic foe with its wings. The Water-Flying pokémon fell.

There were no more comments from Mr. Andies now. He recalled Mantine and brought out a pink chunk of marine rock.

"Corsola, let's see if we can still use that type advantage! Fire a Bubblebeam!"

Wade wondered if Mr. Andies had caught the Water-Rock pokémon in the sea surrounding Shore Island. He had no time to come up with an answer, because that was when the ground chose to quiver. Initially thinking that it was a recurrence of the earthquake that morning, he made to stop the battle. Angeline lost her footing though, so she fell into Wade.

"Will you relax with those attacks!" Lilibeth called to Skye as Angeline, grinning Mareepishly, planted her feet firmly on the ground. "Gliscor's going to demolish all the stalls in the area if you keep that up!"

_Earthquake_. Wade nearly groaned out loud. Of course it'd be able to use it, it's a Ground type! He could have smacked himself for making such a callow mistake.

Mr. Andies recalled his unconscious Corsola then brought out a flapping beast that had the same night-colors as Gliscor. This one had no visible tail, though, and its lower appendages looked more like accessory wings than genuine extremities.

"I'm impressed with your pokémon, Skye," Mr. Andies said. "I'm beginning to think that I'd been worrying for nothing."

"If you think mine are great, wait till you see Wade's," Skye said. "He's got this scary Gyarados that can chew you up and spit you out in the blink of an eye."

At this comment, Angeline and Lilibeth looked him up and down as if seeing him for the first time. Wade tried to melt into the floor.

[I told you not to say unnecessary things, Featherbrain! You're going to bloat up Gyarados's head!]

[What's wrong with a little truth?] Gyarados smugly asked.

[That encounter at the plains left me with quite an impression of the beast,] Skye replied. "Alright, finish that Crobat! Wing Attack!"

And it was over. Crobat was indeed powerful, but a Wing Attack boosted by a Swords Dance could decimate even a type disadvantage. Add in the fact that Gliscor was at level fifty-two, and the Poison-Flying pokémon was history.

Skye approached his pokémon and grabbed it into an Ursaring hug. "You did great, you know that?"

"Remind me never to challenge you again in a battle," Mr. Andies said ruefully as he recalled Crobat. He clapped Skye on the shoulder and vigorously rubbed Gliscor's head. "You have some pretty powerful pokémon in your arsenal, son. Even Swablu did quite a job facing up to my Mantine." Skye glowed at his father's praise. "Now why don't we go to a Pokémon Center so we can heal up our…"

Blocking the rest of what Mr. Andies was going to say, Wade quietly turned and headed for the storeroom to tidy up the remaining items and manage the leftovers. Before anyone could ask their stupid questions with their stupid concern. Once he got to the table, he covered the containers of chicken bourbon, spareribs, and paella with aluminum foil and popped them into the refrigerator, which was brooding alone in one of the corners of the storeroom. He glanced at the mango bars, remembering his threat to Skye if he wolfed down all of the pastries, but found that he didn't have the appetite and kept them like the rest. When he saw that his hand was trembling while holding the box of mango bars, he roughly shoved it into the refrigerator, which he nearly slammed shut.

[Wade…]

His fingers twitched over Umbreon's pokéball, which was strapped to his belt along with the others'. His hand fell to his side, though.

_Skye is the luckiest person in the world…_ The thought came to his mind unbidden. But it begged elucidation. Or at the very least, the birth of more morose contemplation.

It was delusional to think that he belonged here in the Andies household, right? He felt like a fifth wheel, an extra that didn't need to be there. The sole reason that allowed him to stay was perhaps Mr. Andies's pity on a lost seven-year old boy who was beginning to grow up and would soon be inappropriately extending his welcome.

He stacked the remaining boxes of items in the corner opposite the refrigerator. Maybe he should start saving, for when he left once he was no longer needed. Not that he hadn't started; he still had a considerable amount hidden underneath his bed—

His bed? No. It was an arrogant thing to assume. It had been given to him. The same with all his clothes, his allowance, his daily meals, everything. Given. He was a charity case.

[Stop it. Stop it now.]

Wade started. [Stop what?]

Umbreon had that firm tone that he practically never heard in the Dark pokémon. [This isn't going to lead you anywhere but a world of hurt. That's enough. You're tired and irrational.]

[But it's true, isn't it? And who gave you permission to pry into my thoughts?]

[Because I can't stand seeing the one human I care most in this world tear himself down like this!] Umbreon snapped. [I am going out, whether you like it or not.]

The pokeball popped open, and Umbreon appeared on the tabletop in a blaze of light, its ruby eyes nailing him on the spot. Red eyes that were so fierce, yet threatened to release tears.

[Come here.]

Wade obeyed. The Dark pokémon nuzzled his hand and manipulated it onto its black, furry back. The razor in its voice was no longer there when it spoke in his mind. [You can't have everything you want, Wade. Be happy with how things are now. Wishing for too much is just going to hurt you. As I said, you're tired and irrational. Maybe you shouldn't go to Coast Woods tonight and instead take that shower then go to bed.]

Wade closed his eyes. He brought Umbreon tightly into his arms and thought that maybe the Dark pokémon was right. But it sure didn't do anything for the pangs in his chest.

[And besides, you keep doing this jealousy fit of yours, and the Slow-twins will begin picking you apart with their psychoanalytic babble.]

Now _that_ kicked Wade out of his dejection—for the moment, at least. He took hold of the broom and dustpan that were leaning on the refrigerator and started sweeping while Umbreon watched with barely concealed amusement.

"Wow, is that Umbreon yours, Wade?" asked Lilibeth, her head springing up from the doorway. She scooted to the Dark pokémon and stroked behind its ears, which set it off purring. Wade nodded.

"I'll take care of things here," he said as he left the storeroom and started sweeping behind the counter. "It's pretty late; I think you and Angeline should get yourselves home. It's going to be pandemonium again tomorrow."

"We couldn't do that, silly," Angeline said as she emptied the cash register and brought the money over to the storeroom to be counted. "There's still the leftovers…? Oh, you've stashed them away, already! Are there still any mango bars left?"

Wade turned to look for Umbreon and found his pokémon on the countertop, curled beside the cash register as if ready to nap.

[You sure are helping a lot.]

[I'm here for moral support. Of course, you can always whisk the dirt away with your telekinesis, seeing that the girls are in the storeroom… It would certainly make things faster, and you get to see the bathroom earlier.]

That _was_ an option. Wade found out that the task didn't even take ten minutes. And just in time, since that was when Angeline and Lilibeth got out of the storeroom. They gaped at the clean floors.

"We'll be giving the profits to Mr. Andies once he and Skye get back from the Pokécenter," said Angeline once her amazement departed. "Do you want to go on up? We can take over from here."

Profits… Wade recalled what their last customer had narrated. Stolen prize money. Was it Clan activity again? Again, unnamed emotions threatened to consume him, but he held them at bay. If it was indeed Clan activity, then that would certainly place their industriousness off the charts. Why had they been so busy lately?

"I'll just take a shower," Wade said. "Umbreon, you stay here with the girls. If anyone tries anything funny with them, you know what to do."

[Right.]

Wade was still in the shower when he heard clunky footsteps going up the stairs. He got dressed with a pair of pajama pants before exiting the bathroom and still toweling his dripping hair. Skye was on his bed with his arms underneath his head as makeshift pillows and his feet dangling off the edge. His eyes lit up when he saw him. Wade gasped as the blonde abruptly chucked something to him: a dark gem that was the size of his fist.

"Watch what you're throwing, you moron; this thing might break!"

"It's a Dusk Stone," Skye said. He tossed his own in the air and nimbly caught it before it fell back. "You know, the thing that Dad said can evolve our Murkrow. We found a stall selling them along with some other rocks."

Another freebie. Just perfect for his mood right now.

"I'll pay Mr. Andies tomorrow—"

"Dad didn't say anything about that," Skye interrupted. "You don't have to pay for everything you receive, you know."

Wade turned away and flopped on his bed. He dealt with the oppressive silence by continuing to dry his hair. A sigh escaped him before he could stop it.

"Something's on your mind—"

"Yeah, and that's a good night's sleep. I'm sorry, Skye, but I don't feel up to that trip to Coast Woods."

It was at that time that Umbreon came sauntering into the room. The Dark pokémon hopped to Wade's bed and coiled itself on top of his pillows. Wade was glad that it came in like it did. At least he had the time to regain his composure from the mishmash of feelings tearing through him right now. He forced himself to look alright.

"Oh, about that… It's done."

Wade swung around and fixed a sharp look at the other. "It's done?"

"Hey, relax! I did it while at the Pokémon Center. I used the restroom excuse and snuck out."

"You're just plain incorrigible," Wade muttered as he placed the Dusk Stone by the side of his pillows. Small wonder they had taken so long. "And? What did you find out?"

"Nothing solid," Skye replied. "The only thing that Farfetch'd said was, the Drowzee think that the tremors came from deep within Coast Cave. After that, I couldn't get anything anymore since the silly bird fell asleep on me."

Coast Cave? Maybe Ground pokémon? Producing an earthquake that could disturb all of Coast Woods would certainly require a powerful one, and such strength didn't really exist in any of the wild pokémon on the island. What could be in Coast Cave…? Perhaps a trainer who had pokémon that knew the Ground attack, or…

Headache. Thinking like this wouldn't help. He needed some shut-eye. Maybe his head would stop aching tomorrow. Wade stood up, acquired a plain white shirt from his drawers, and slipped it on. Once Umbreon understood that he was going to sleep, it leapt to the floor, which allowed him to sprawl on the bed and bury his face into the pillow.

"Something really is bothering you—"

"I'm tired. If you want someone to talk to then go bring out your Gliscor or whatever else you have there and start yakking. Or go bug your dad. Either way, I don't care."

Skye didn't reply. Neither did Umbreon. _Either way, I don't care… _The lie burned his tongue and made sleep all the more elusive.

- x x x -

Author's Notes_  
And there went the angst._


	14. Chapter 13

Author's Notes  
_Chapter 13 here. Life has been rather unkind lately. But, well, I guess when you like doing something, you find ways to make room for it. So here's the next chappy. Prepare for a shift from the usual characters._

_I don't own pokémon. But aside from the ten plus Shih-tzus, we also have a Bichon Frise, the white furry toy dog with afro hair. Perfect pet for Flint. :D Maybe they could turn it into a Fire type. But, oh no, there are already two canine Fire lines (Houndour-Houndoom and Growlithe-Arcanine). Maybe an Electric type? But there are already fluffy Electric types: Mareep and Flaaffy..._

_I think too much. :D  
_

- x x x -_  
_

**CHAPTER 13**

A hand leaned on the side of the bark of one of the myriad trees of Coast Woods. It belonged to a person cloaked in the murk of midnight and the foliage of the forest, his emerald eyes watching another figure crouched in front of a sleepy inhabitant of the woods. The Farfetch'd quacked and crooned its unintelligible words to the figure, who, seemingly satisfied with whatever he had collected from the bird, suddenly disappeared like an illusion in the shadows.

The boy removed his hand from the trunk and walked towards the place where the object of his observation had been. Why had that person been out here at such a late hour of the night? All to converse with some Farfetch'd? For what reason? It made no sense to him.

[We should go.]

The boy turned and regarded the Ledian. He nodded, then vaulted to the nearest tree branch, which was a good ten meters from the ground. He soared through the vines and boughs like a Mankey. He didn't need to see the trees; after all, he could feel their life forces in the same manner that he could distinguish that a plant was alive, while rocks were not. Behind him Ledian followed, the sound of its fluttering wings blending with the chatter of the forest: twigs cracking, leaves rustling, and pokémon calling.

After a few minutes he landed on the ground, where its maw beckoned him to enter. Coast Cave. Undeterred by the devouring darkness inside he went into the opening, with Ledian hovering close by. It would have been dangerous and unintelligent for a normal person to travel these tunnels at night, much less without any form of illumination, but he was no ordinary person. He knew where to go. That familiar brightness hiding behind this labyrinth of passages would always reach for him and lead him.

He felt something brush his mind, a sensation akin to a pet Growlithe being stroked by its master, and stopped in his tracks. As always, he was being monitored. There was no escaping that fact. He shuddered and trudged on in a seemingly haphazard manner, turning lefts and rights at forks in the paths without so much as a fleck of hesitation. Until he reached a dead end with vines and other flora covering the wall.

[Do you think he's alright, Ledian?] he asked his bug companion.

[He should be,] Ledian replied, its upper four arms folded over its front. [Otherwise I am going to get very violent.]

The boy waved his hands over the plants, which parted as if controlled by strings. He went into the new opening and found himself in a large, poorly lit chamber with a high ceiling that seemed to end in darkness. Like graves futilely reaching for the sky, stalagmites jutted from the ground and posed a danger to anyone careless enough to totter into them. A rumble echoed in the distance and threatened to herald the arrival of a tremor. He shuddered. All that digging had taken its toll on the cave; some parts of it had already collapsed as a result of the excavations. Not only this; one would think that the Clan had learned its lesson when, during an excavation aided by Ground pokémon that knew Dig, some of their henchmen had been buried alive due to a cave-in.

The boy spotted a man, his features smudged by the blackness, sitting on a dilapidated wooden chair. Ledian grabbed one of the candles sitting sullenly in the corner and fluttered over to him, who turned at the sight of the newcomers.

"… Is that you, Guido?"

Guido answered with a squeezing hand on the man's shoulder. Now that the candle illuminated the other's features, he saw things that he never wanted to see in this man: disheveled black hair, dark eyes covered in a haze of fear and worry, and a build that seemed to be clinging to his bones. His brown shirt was covered with soil and mud, and his one functioning leg seemed ready to join the other in its uselessness.

"Dad."

He wanted to cry. If only he weren't so powerless…

"I assume you're ready for tomorrow's activities," an irritating nasal voice said behind him.

When Guido turned to face the psychic, his face was as impassive as a rock. He had grown to hate that nasal voice, that long, stick-like nose, and that pointy chin. But he knew enough not to show disdain for the repugnant schemer; after all, it was never wise to cross Dennison. Despite knowing this, he chose not to answer. Instead he hurled dagger eyes at the pokémon beside the wretched man, an Alakazam that gazed back with as much emotion as a piece of paper.

"Leave my son out of this—"

Dennison laughed, an ugly sound that echoed in the wide, dark chamber. "I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter, Mr. Redspike. Neither does Guido. There is nothing the both of you can do to reverse your current situation. After all, I _am_ in Guido's head, monitoring all his actions to make sure that he does nothing to jeopardize the Clan's preparations. I may not be powerful in telekinesis or telepathy as a psychic, but there is no one better than I am when it comes to lodging my consciousness into the minds of others. It makes supervising so much easier, wouldn't you say?"

Guido replied with a stony silence, prompting Dennison to snicker. An arrogant laugh that was immediately interrupted by a belligerent voice.

"I still don't understand why you had to bring a wielder in this whole operation," an old man with a weather-beaten face and a tan calotte on his head snapped. Guido regarded the newcomer from the corner of his eye. As always, the old man had his fishing rod in hand, and he looked ready to use it in the same manner as a sword.

"What aspect of it continues to fail your understanding, Cassius?" Dennison asked, a dangerous edge appearing in his voice. Guido protectively stood in front of his father in case an exchange of blows erupted between the two Consable Clan generals. Ledian wasted no time in setting up a Reflect.

"You don't fix what's not broken!" the elderly fisherman growled. "We've been doing this the old way for years, and we've never been caught by those gutless excuses for policemen. Why use this—this child?" Cassius shifted his ire at Guido with a shaking finger in front of his face. "He's still wet behind the ears!"

"I have no wish to discuss what we have already debated upon previously," Dennison firmly said. "This operation must be flawless, as it affects the future of the Consable Clan. Hotnoser has already bungled by being caught, and I am taking no more chances. We do not need your services for this, Cassius."

"So that means that I can keep all this money I stole from that dratted pokémon contest for my personal consumption," he spat, his fishing rod pointing at a stocky metallic box a distance behind the chair where Guido's father sat. "As well as the prize money from that fishing competition early this morning. It has always been my role to procure funds for whatever projects the Clan has in mind, Dennison, and I do not appreciate being shafted like this!"

"Shafted? Dear me, you exaggerate. We are simply making wiser use of the resources at hand."

The old angler snarled before raising his fishing rod to strike at Guido's father.

Guido's eyes flashed a virulent green. Leafy tendrils erupted from the ground to wind themselves around Cassius, particularly the hand holding the rod. More snaked around the old fisherman's entire body. He cried out, dropped the rod, and fell with a thud. Cassius struggled and sputtered, but the vines were obstinate.

"I can't say you didn't deserve that," said Dennison with a derisive sniff. He moved to clap Guido on the shoulder in amused approval, but the youth flashed his smoldering eyes at him. The hand stopped in mid-air. Dennison frowned.

"You seem to forget that any rash actions can result in… regrettable consequences." A Consable henchman was suddenly behind Guido's father. The darkness was very proficient in obscuring vision, but even it could not hide the knife pressed against Dad's throat. Guido looked away.

"I'll do what you want."

Silence. And then, "Good boy."

Guido didn't need to glance at the other's face to know that he was smirking. The intensity of Dennison's arrogant grin scorched his nape. So did Cassius's hatred. As the clan henchman with the knife cut through the vines binding the fisherman, Guido made to leave, but he suddenly felt that caress in his mind again and quivered. Behind him, Dennison laughed.

"You've discovered that there is no way to escape my hold, have you?" the psychic said softly, his voice so hypnotic that Guido almost craved to give in to it. "I hope I don't break your spirit; after all, I do enjoy your occasional bouts of defiance. Just remember that if you do anything that places our operation in danger, I will know, and your father will pay for it." Dennison paused, probably to let the effect of those words sink into him. Guido stood his ground against the tears welling in his eyes. "Of course, if you get yourself stampeded on or beat up by a mob for being caught, then I leave your mind. I will monitor your every action, but that doesn't mean that I will have to endure such stupidity, now does it?"

"I understand." He was proud of his voice, at least, for being so steady. Wondering if he should tell Dennison about a new development that might indeed be a problem for the Clan's plans, he found himself gazing at his father.

"My older brother's here."

"You didn't tell us anything about an older brother." Dennison's voice betrayed no emotion, but Guido still had to suppress a flinch.

"I'll throw him off track."

Again, Guido felt the intensity of Dennison's attention. "You had better. I'll be watching."

"I'm going to Ochre, now, to see my mother. I'll be back before dawn."

Dennison offered a mock bow. "As you wish."

[Dad… I'll be back soon, I promise. I just want to make sure that Mom is alright.]

"Be safe, son."

Ledian hovered to its trainer and sat on his shoulder. Guido teleported the two of them to the entrance of Coast Cave, after which he vaulted to the nearest branch and sat down, heaving heavy breaths. He wrapped his arms around the Bug-Flying pokémon and leaned his forehead against the other's plushy body.

[Why didn't you tell Skye about all this?] Ledian asked. [You were already there a while ago. What changed your mind?]

Guido's arms around Ledian tightened. [He'd be able to help, wouldn't he? He's such a strong wielder and a powerful trainer.] He looked up at the few stars peeking from in between the leaves and branches, which had been painted dark by the night. [But… No. I… I wouldn't want to place all these problems on him. I don't want to involve him in such a mess.] He stroked Ledian's head absent-mindedly as he recalled his friend's ever-smiling face. [It was wrong of me to visit him a while ago, to think that he'd be able to do something. Dennison would know, and the Clan would go after him and his family. I… I don't want that.]

Ledian fell silent. The sound of rustling leaves and cracking twigs seemed magnified. Guido shifted his gaze to the maw of Coast Cave and wondered, not for the first time, if he could do anything to save his father. He didn't even care if he got injured or even killed in the process; he'd do anything to save Dad.

[What do you intend to do about your brother?]

Daith. Guido's hand unconsciously fingered one of the shiny green studs on his ears, the one on his right. Indeed, what _did_ he intend to do about him?

[We'll see. I need to visit Mom, first. Are you ready to go, Ledian? This won't take long.]

[Are you teleporting again? You're pushing yourself too hard. I suggest a quick rest once you get home. Maybe a one-hour power nap? Though if I had my way you'll be sleeping until morning. Maybe I should get Jumpluff to spray you with Sleep Powder.]

Ledian's attempt at humor failed to bring out a smile. [I'll spray right back. Now come on.] He closed his eyes and pictured their home in the desert village: a small, box-like stone and wood structure sporting a planked porch in front and decrepit wooden shutters over the windows. There was no roof on top, just a stone flat like any other house in Ochre that was perfect for star-gazing at night, a pastime that he often did with his brother before he left the village around eight years ago. A few scraggly weeds and desert flowers surrounded the house like desperate stragglers.

When he opened his eyes, there stood the Redspike residence. He gasped as the cold desert night bit deep into his bones. He suddenly felt like he had gone for a month without food. The sandy ground rushed up to meet him, and it took a while before he realized that he had fallen, and that Ledian was pushing him up with all of its might.

[I knew this would happen,] the Bug-Flying pokémon said with a sigh. [What do you expect when you don't sleep and eat well for a whole two weeks? You got lucky when you were fed a decent meal at the Andies pokémart. Can you at least make it to the door?]

Guido nodded feebly. Unfortunately, his feet felt a hundred times heavier, and Ledian seemed to be expending all its energy in just keeping its trainer from falling. Fuzzily realizing that this was going nowhere fast, he released a mental projectile into one of his pokéballs. Out popped a shaggy yellow creature with a gaudy headdress that belonged more in a festival than in a vast expanse of sand and sky with barely any signs of life. The Ludicolo turned around, saw him, and immediately lifted him onto its green arms. Ledian, relieved of its burden, proceeded to the porch and opened the door. Ludicolo followed inside and placed its trainer on the sofa before turning the lights on.

[Pooped out from partying all night, huh?] the Water-Grass pokémon cheerfully quipped.

[I wish.]

"Guido? Son? Is that you?"

A plump woman with hair tied in a neat bun burst out from the door opposite the living room. She had a thick, brown, wool jacket covering her night dress, and there were numerous lines on her furrowed forehead, as if she had spent the previous nights worrying and crying. Which she probably had done.

"What happened? Did they… did they… work you too hard?"

"No, Mom. I just need… a little nap, and I'll be good as new… I have to get back to check on Dad."

Mom fidgeted before asking the question which she always dreaded asking. "How is he?"

Guido inhaled a long one to steady his nerves. "He seems alright. I'm giving him a bath tomorrow before… before I get to work."

Mom bit her lower lip. "Work…" She seemed unsure about what to make of that word. "We will weather through this, somehow. Be careful, Guido. Keep safe, because I don't think my heart could take it if I were to lose another son."

"I'm going to sleep now…" [Would you two mind staying out for a while?] he mentally asked Ledian and Ludicolo. [Having you out will calm Mom down a bit. You don't have to worry about waking me up—]

[I know,] Ledian said. [You have your own body alarm clock that lets you wake up whenever you need. I still wonder how you do it.]

Guido nodded before he welcomed sleep, the only time that he couldn't feel Dennison's presence. Blackness engulfed him, and thankfully, there were no dreams.

- x x x -

Daith sipped his tea. It was already past midnight, yet the restaurants didn't seem to have any intention of closing yet. Which was good for nocturnal tourists like him, whose quest for slumber would only prove futile. He brushed his hand through his messy mop of black hair and idly wondered if he should order another cup of Meganium tea.

Luckily for him, the café he had chosen to while away his time was peaceful, with only the occasional titters from a particularly noisy bunch of teenagers disturbing the quiet. He took a long drag from his cigarette and lazily blew the smoke out. His table was small and round, suitable for only two people, much like the other tables found in The Roserade, and it had a wide umbrella to offer refuge from a searing sun. The spot he had picked offered a view that would have inspired numerous paintings had it been daytime: an unruffled ocean that stretched forever into the horizon. Soft blues music played out from a radio, and it furnished the place with the perfect ambience.

Beside him, a serpentine form lay coiled and gave the appearance of careless relaxation. Just a façade, of course. Arbok may seem indolent now, but woe to the intruder who dared provoke it.

His mobile phone trilled, the imitation of a cantankerous Chatot. Not for the first time, he wondered why he had let his friend Aaron convince him into buying it. He looked at the screen and could not stop a wry smile. Speak of the devil…

"Yes, Aaron?"

"Hey Daith!" How could the Bug master remain so cheerful at this time of the night? "How's the Fair? Did you get me a Bug pokémon that can't be found here in Sinnoh?"

Daith smiled. Aaron's youthful exuberance can be so infectious, sometimes. "Not yet. Don't worry, I'll get you one. I'm thinking of catching a Venonat in Coast Woods up north, or perhaps a Ledyba in the grasslands just outside. Maybe both."

"Great! When will you be back?"

"As soon as I get to meet my brother—"

"My fellow Bug enthusiast, right? Did he like the Kricketot I caught for him? You told me that he likes training them young, so I got one at Level 3 just north of Sandgem Town. How is the little bugger now?"

"It's already evolved." Daith wouldn't be surprised if it was already strong enough to challenge Aaron and the rest of the Sinnoh Elite Four. That was his brother for you. "His Lombre has also evolved, thanks to the Leaf Stone you found and gave me."

"Is he as strong as you? My gosh, but you're the first ever to obliterate us with just a team of Poison types. Goodness knows that we haven't had much of a challenge in the past few months, and we're all itching for a good battle. Even mild-mannered Bertha! Any possibility that this brother of yours can be shipped over to Sinnoh?"

Daith laughed. The other elites had always commented on his quietness, but it was the Bug master who seemed to know how to tickle out the laughter in him. "I have to find him first, Aaron."

"Aww… Alright. Well, I'll see you when you get back. But if you take too long, even Flint's going to start wondering, and the next thing you'll know you'll be hauled back here by the scruff of your neck. Have fun at the Fair! Bye!"

"Goodbye."

He returned the mobile phone into his pocket and took another drag from his cigarette. Where _was_ Guido? Daith made it a point to visit the Pokémon Fair every year, and he usually ran into his younger brother on the first day. Maybe he should go back to Ochre and—

He was out of his mind if he allowed himself to do that. Besides, what was the point in dredging up bitter memories? The very thought of his parents was still enough to curdle his insides.

"Would you want anything else, sir?" a waitress balancing four cups of coffee on a tray asked him.

Was he going for that extra cup? Perhaps not. "No thank you. I'll be going back to my hotel in a while."

"Alright, sir, just call me if you need anything else." She whirled around to cater to the other customers, but too fast, and ended up tripping. Daith caught her hand in time but immediately knew that that tray of coffee was done for. Forgetting to check if anyone was looking, he sent forth a telekinetic force and balanced the tray back onto her hand. The cups clinked, but not a single drop of coffee was spilled.

His eyes flashed an iridescent green. Visions invaded his head. This girl was from Sinnoh! Daith's surroundings crumbled into nothingness and were replaced by a new scene: an unfamiliar living room with a red rug, marble-tiled floors, and Floatzel statues in each corner. Probably a mansion. He saw a middle-aged man with a firm jaw and hard eyes, and a slender woman with a petulant mouth, both scolding a younger version of the waitress for bringing an injured Shinx to a Pokémon Center. She screamed back at them and bolted out the door. The scene faded into another one: the docks. He recognized the city as Canalave, which was found in the westernmost part of Sinnoh. The girl stomped to the gangplank with a backpack and—

Daith quickly let go of the waitress's hand. Stupid retrocognition. It would sometimes act up without his permission. He had a better hold on it now compared to eight years ago, but sometimes the silly psychic ability would go off on its own.

And what about that imprudence with the tray of cups? What if someone had seen or recognized a telekinetic? The last thing he needed right now was to be driven out by an angry horde like some dangerous beast. He averted his gaze from the waitress and took a lengthy drag from his cigarette, only to find out that it was almost gone.

"Um…" The waitress seemed unsure of what to say. "Thank you." Daith simply nodded as he shook out another stick.

[Humans are sometimes more dangerous than us pokémon,] Arbok offered as the waitress, still in a daze, left.

[Tell me about it.]

His thoughts went back to his little brother. Again, he felt uneasy. He touched one of the round red studs on his ears, the one on his left, as if it had the power to magically reveal Guido's location to him. He had never felt this apprehension before… Had something happened to his brother?

His mouth tightened. He certainly hoped not. After all, Guido meant the whole world to him.

[He's fine, right, Arbok?]

The Poison pokémon was silent before answering, and Daith had a feeling that he would get the same adage that it told him every time he wallowed in uncertainty. [Trust your instincts, Daith.]

He sighed. [Forget I asked.]

- x x x -

Author's Notes_  
Thanks for reading! Why not drop a review? They do help. :D_


	15. Chapter 14

Author's Notes_  
Whew! Finally, an update. Sorry for it being late. November has been an unkind month. Fortunately my muse has been patiently waiting for the time that I'd be back writing. Here it is, Chapter 14._

_By the way, as I've mentioned in my profile, I'll be revising this chapter and the next one. So here's the rewritten one. Nothing drastic, just a little tweaking in one of Skye's friend's attitude._

_Pokemon is not mine. But I'd sure like a Totodile stuffed toy. :D_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 14**

As a feeble dawn sunshine wafted through the window, Skye scanned his clothes inside his drawers and decided on a light blue pair of jeans and a plain white sleeveless shirt with the words "Defy Gravity" splotched in front. Flinging the clothes onto his bed, he stretched and tried to yawn out all the sleepiness in him—a futile effort. He turned and spotted Umbreon sitting primly on Wade's bed and watching him with intense, unnerving eyes. Smiling as if the act would drive away his unease from such scrutiny, he approached the Dark pokémon and petted it. His gaze wandered to the bathroom, where he could hear the shower on full blast.

Shrugging off the awkward events from last night, he went to his knees and reached under his bed for a rectangular package wrapped in cheap but thick brown paper. His hand glided over the smooth surface. He stared at the wrapped object for a moment and tried to imagine the numerous colors behind that dull brown: red, orange, yellow, pink, and violet, all part of a picturesque potpourri from a painter's palette. He was tempted to remove the paper for another glimpse of what was inside but instead propped the package against the wall.

The door to the bathroom clicked open. His indigo shirt slung over his shoulder, Wade came out with a towel draped around his waist and looking like he was in deep thought. Skye knew enough not to disturb the other's little bubble of privacy, so he wordlessly walked to the bathroom.

His sleepiness left him in one once the shower hit him. It was his fault for being so drowsy; after all, that was what he got for thinking and thinking until the digital clock glared a reproachful three thirty a.m.

No use griping over spilled milk. Besides, if Wade was going to get all crotchety on him, then he could go full speed ahead with his plans for the afternoon, and get a little revenge in the process. Cackling like mad was overdramatic, so he settled for trembling gleefully.

A few minutes later, Skye stepped out of the bathroom. He spotted Wade, his indigo shirt now donned and showing off his wiry physique, on his bed and staring at the wrapped package.

"What's that?"

Skye replied with the answer he had prepared in case anyone asked what the object was. "A package I have to deliver somewhere once we get off work."

Wade didn't give any sign that he had heard the reply, as he was still staring at the rectangular thing. Skye swallowed. He hoped he didn't probe further…

"Can I… can I tell you something?" he muttered.

Skye took a position on his own bed. Wade didn't meet his eyes.

"I didn't mean… I didn't mean to get snappish last night. It's just…" As Wade paused to find the right words, Skye could feel his resolve at exacting his revenge dissolving on the spot. No! He had to be firm! Besides, it was going to be fun. "I'm sorry. I was…" The rest of what he murmured failed to reach Skye's ears.

The long-haired youth gaped for a moment before replying. He had half a mind to make Wade repeat what he had incoherently mumbled, but Skye didn't consider himself a sadist. After all, the other was still a novice at opening up. "I figured it out last night," he said instead with a shrug. "Took a lot of thinking; you know that I'm not the brightest lamp on the block. Dad and I… I guess we've always been like this. Especially after Mom died." Wade flinched as if he had uttered an obscenity, but that didn't stop him. He needed to hear this, after all.

"Dad has always wanted another child. In truth, he wanted a big family with lots of kids. But he made a choice not to re-marry, so the only alternative left for more kids was adoption. He made that decision seven years ago and was about to go to an orphanage in Kanto when… when you came along and made his dream come true." _And my own for a younger brother, as well. Even if he is snappish._

[I don't believe you.]

Skye smiled at the stubbornness and decided to keep what he was about to say to himself.

_You don't have to, because you'll find out on your own eventually._

"Dad's probably left already," Skye said as he stood up and motioned for Wade to follow him downstairs. "Today's his day off, and that exhibit he was so excited to see opens early. We better get down before Bobby and Thomas find the door locked. Angeline and Lilibeth won't be coming in to help until after lunch."

Skye descended the stairs but stopped midway when he realized that Wade wasn't following. He glanced back to see the other still on his bed. Sighing, he detached Swablu's pokéball from his belt and released the cute cotton-wing. It peeped inquisitively at him.

[Stay with him a while, will you? I swear, he can be so dense sometimes.] Swablu flapped back to the bedroom and promptly ensconced itself on Wade's head, which rudely booted him out of his glumness. Skye laughed; he would have wanted to paint a picture of that. With his spirits a little more elevated he thumped down the stairs and proceeded with the day's preparations.

Bobby and Thomas, the boys that Dad had hired to help out during the Fair, arrived half an hour later at seven on the dot. Still with a chirping Swablu on his head, Wade bustled on with carton boxes in hand. He had taken a leaf from Skye's book and had released his own pokémon, his Sneasel, which had a box of its own in its formidable claws. With his white apron and the two pokémon following him around, Wade looked more like he worked at a pokémon daycare center than in a pokémart.

Their first customer was an old man who looked like he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Either that or had eaten a tamarind. A tan calotte adorned his wrinkled head, and he wore a vest with numerous pockets, with one of them dangling a hook from its lip. He frowned at the Potions and sneered at the Awakenings. His eyes lit up, though, when he saw the tray of Mystic Water trinkets. He snatched one and quickly paid for it, then left without a word.

"Oddball," Skye heard Wade mutter.

A steady stream of customers poured in. More than once Skye found himself blinking off in a daze, only to realize that he had been asked where the Full Heals were or how much did the Water Stones cost. And every time he nearly fell asleep standing, Wade was always there to whap his head awake. It was a great comfort seeing the other back to his prickly self, though Skye didn't understand why his head had to pay for it.

At around half past nine, while Skye was pointing out to a couple of ten-year-olds the location of their King's Rocks, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"I'll be with you in a sec—Nico? Camille? Isn't it a little early?"

Curly-haired and a little on the beefy side, Nico was the same fifteen that Skye was. He had his usual get-up of an unbuttoned polo splashed with so many colors, white shorts, and white walking shoes. Beside him was a girl wearing faded blue jeans and a sleeveless green shirt that was ragged on the edges and failed to cover her flat stomach and the ring on her navel. Her sun-bleached hair was tied into a ponytail.

"We just passed by to drop the tickets for the Worm Dash," Camille said as she flashed them. "They're a hundred fifty each."

Skye exchanged three hundred pokéyen for the two tickets, which he immediately pocketed.

"We'll see you there, then," Nico said. "We'll be passing the time at the Park where lots of trainers have gathered for matches. My Cubone and Zubat could use the exercise." He and Camille then turned to leave, but not before Skye caught his arm and looked around to make sure that Wade couldn't hear.

"Hey Nico, can I ask you a favor?" He brought out a crumpled pamphlet from his pocket and showed it to his friend, who bemusedly examined it.

"Would you mind registering Wade for it?" Skye continued quietly. "I can't leave since I'm on duty right now. The event's at three thirty, right after the Worm Dash. Here's a little cash for the registration fee."

Camille's blue eyes widened as she peered at the rumpled piece of paper. "Are you serious about this, Skye? Does he do this kind of thing?"

"Trust me, he does, and he's good at it."

Nico stared at him with an arched eyebrow that conveyed a year's worth of skepticism. "Are you sure he knows other things besides sitting in a corner with a storm-cloud over his head? Because if that's the case then I might start believing that he's human, after all."

Skye's eyebrows knitted together. "You don't have to be mean. You just need to get to know him more."

"… Right. If you say so." His tone implied that he'd rather introduce himself to a herd of raging Gyarados. "Anyway, do you know of anyone else signing up for this?"

"Not really," Skye replied. Come to think of it, he hadn't really found the time to research on the other competitors. Not that he was worried; after all, he was confident in Wade's abilities.

"Our very own Shore Island contender!" Camille exclaimed. "But I'm pretty sure that there'll be others from the island. I'm gonna spread the word."

"Skye, where'd you put the inventory?"

The three of them jumped. Camille squeaked. Nico jammed the pamphlet and the registration fee into his pocket.

"It's… I think I left it in the storeroom. Yeah, that's it, the storeroom!"

Wade arched an eyebrow at him. Then he saw Nico and Camille and gave them a silent nod. He disappeared into the storeroom with his Sneasel tromping behind him.

"You couldn't have been more obvious, could you," Nico commented flatly.

"Since when did Wade get a Sneasel?" Camille asked.

"I bought it for him on the first day of the Fair."

"And why does he have a Swablu on his head?" Nico asked.

Skye just laughed. "Anyway, I'm counting on you guys."

"Wait." Camille nervously glanced at the door to the storeroom. "Does he know that you're entering him? Because from the looks of things…"

"He doesn't." _Sorry Wade, but revenge is sweet._

"But what if he refuses?" Camille asked.

"He won't," came the quick, confident reply. _Not if I can help it._

Nico and Camille looked like they had more faith in a Golem being able to fly, but they kept silent, at least.

The door chime jingled just as Nico and Camille said their goodbyes. In came a familiar man with a jumble of dark hair, quiet green eyes, and red, round studs dangling from his ears. Instead of the warm sleeveless sweatshirt he had on yesterday he wore a thin, white polo shirt coupled with navy blue jeans and sandals. Camille stopped in her tracks and ogled the newcomer.

"Are you here for that discount?" Skye asked the man with a welcoming grin.

The man blinked at him before replying. "Hello," he greeted with a small smile. "I guess the answer would be a yes…" He scratched his head and let his gaze roam. "Do you have any Full Heals or Hyper Potions?"

"Sorry, we don't have any Hyper Potions. But we do have Full Heals. If you're interested we have some Andies pokémart-exclusive items like Mystic Waters, King's Rocks, and Water Stones."

"Hmm… Maybe the King's Rock? And five Full Heals."

How to give that discount… "Tell you what." Why was Camille still hanging around? And with the weird face? Wait… oh, so that was why. His grin could not go any wider. "I'll toss in the King's Rock for free. How does that sound?"

"I couldn't accept that," the man immediately said. "I wouldn't want to impose…"

There was something about that diffident manner that tickled at Skye's memory. He let it pass, though, as he moved to the shelves with the items that the man wanted and picked them out.

"Hey Bobby," Skye said to the muscular helper. "Five full heals for the cashier. But charge the King's Rock to me."

"And may I ask why?"

Skye whirled around and felt like he had been caught stealing from the household cookie jar. Wade's eyebrow was arched dead spot on him, and he had his arms folded on his chest and was looking like the impeccable imitation of a displeased mother. Though the Swablu on his head somehow sabotaged the disgruntled image.

_I'm dead if he finds out… Aww, but he will find out eventually, and I'll still be dead…_ "He… he returned my wallet when I dropped it while buying lunch yesterday," he answered timidly, his eyes pinned on his shoes. _Now for my funeral…_

When Wade didn't say anything for a long time, he looked up at him. His face was unreadable as usual.

[What are you thinking?] he asked nervously. [I mean… It _is_ the least I can do for him.]

"Cheapskate," Wade muttered so suddenly that Skye almost shot up to the ceiling. "Don't bother with paying for the whole lot, sir," he said, addressing the man who by now was fiddling with a box of cigarettes. "Are you sure you just need five Full Heals? Do you need some more?"

"Uh… Five is fine."

"If you're sure…"

"You guys are too generous," said the man as he pocketed his box of cigarettes.

"It's the least we can do for returning Featherbrain's wallet. Sometimes there's nothing inside his head but air, so you'll have to excuse him."

[You're evil, you know that?] Skye thought hard into the other's mind. Wade shot him a smirk.

The man smiled. "I hope you don't mind me commenting, but are you his younger brother?"

Skye decided to diffuse this before it became awkward. "He's—"

"You could say that."

The rest of what he was about to say got lodged in his throat, and he nearly choked because of it. What did Wade just say?

"I figured as much," the man said with a glad nod.

Camille suddenly materialized beside Skye, and her fist was clenched on the sleeve of Nico's polo. "Hi! We're their friends. So you returned Skye's wallet when he accidentally dropped it? That's so nice of you! May we have your name?" Compared to the expression on her face, she made the word "star-struck" seem bland.

The man offered her a tentative smile. "It's Daith."

Daith and Camille continued to chat, while Nico exasperatedly tried to pry the silly girl's fingers from the sleeve of his polo. Their words washed over Skye, though, since his attention was solely on the snappish, unsociable, and moody boy who had told a complete stranger that he was his kid brother. He suddenly felt like splurging on a mountain of cakes of all sizes and flavors and buying ten cartons of milk.

Bobby wrapped the goods and handed them to Daith, who was still engaged in a one-sided conversation with Camille. Feeling sorry that the man had been trapped in his friend's attentions, Skye placed both hands on the girl and steered her out the door, a task that Nico couldn't accomplish with Camille's vice-like grip on his unbuttoned polo.

"Bye, Daith!" she prattled on. "Hope to see you soon! Like maybe the Worm Dash or something!"

Daith waved a beleaguered hand. After a final "Thanks, guys. I hope to be back," he walked out the door, back into the surging swarm of people outside.

"Does Guido have an older brother?" Wade suddenly asked. Swablu, comfortably perched on his head, peeped curiously as if asking the same question.

Skye stared. So _that_ was why the man looked familiar. He shrugged his lack of an answer and went on with the morning's activities in high spirits.

After ten trainers who wanted random pokémon items, three ladies who wanted directions to a posh restaurant called the Debonair Delcatty, and a lost Growlithe that wandered in and nearly burned the shelves with a misfired Ember attack, lunch arrived, carried by Angeline and Lilibeth. Skye detected the unmistakable smell of fried chicken—"There're potato wedges, too," Lilibeth said—but couldn't identify what was in the other box. Before he could open it, Wade snatched the container and rushed to the storeroom with Sneasel hot on his heels. Skye lost no time following.

"Carbonara," he said as the contents of the mystery box were revealed. It swam in white sauce, cheddar cheese, green peas, ham, and bacon bits. He ripped a drumstick from the chicken in the other box and chomped off a piece.

"I'll be back later," he said as he left the storeroom with a wave. "Let me just deliver the package—"

"Can't it wait until after lunch?" Wade asked with a frown as he followed. "Is it that important?"

"Hey Bobby, Thomas!" Skye called to the new help. "Come on in the storeroom and have some lunch." He turned back to Wade. "And to answer your question, it's sort of a rush delivery." _I'm sending the package off before you find out what it is. Besides, I'm still kinda shy about it…_

[And I have still have no idea why…] Ledian remarked dryly.

[Quit eavesdropping into my private thoughts!] If the Bug-Flying pokémon were out he'd have stuck out his tongue at it.

[And quit acting so bashful about your own contest,] Ledian shot back. [Shouldn't you be proud of your work? Why all the hush? Why don't you show the package to your "kid brother?"]

"You better hurry back, then," Wade said. "We're not going to leave you any lunch if you're going to take your sweet time."

"Alright, alright!" Skye ascended the stairs in loud thumps. [And you ask why all the hush? Wade would probably scoff.]

[You might be surprised.]

Skye stopped in his tracks, but shook his head and proceeded to acquire the package. Who knew what could happen?

- x x x -

Something was wrong.

The Park was bursting with pokémon battles. Numerous clearings surrounded by fences of wooden boards, willowy trees, and excited spectators served as arenas that could host three to four matches. Battle cries and angry yowls from the participating pokémon blended with the whoops, whistles, and catcalls of the trainers and the audience. The grass and the ground were never the same; one moment they'd be drenched by a Water Gun, then sizzled to a crisp by an Ember attack, then squashed flat by a Rock Throw. An occasional explosion would rumble through the Park, no doubt the result of opposing energies colliding—a Thunderbolt versus another Thunderbolt, or a Flamethrower versus a Hyper Beam. Sometimes a putrid odor permeated the air, and when passers-by looked for the source they would spot a Koffing unleashing a Smog attack or a Grimer lobbing a Sludge attack.

Daith was watching a Grimer now, actually. It was locked in a double battle with a hulking pokémon sporting spikes and a full-grown tree on its shell. A Torterra, the Grass starter from Sinnoh. The opponents were a floating spherical rock with protrusions around its circumference—a Solrock—and a humanoid brawler that made the art of meditation as necessary as breathing—a Medicham.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?"

Guido simply shook his head and continued watching. His eyes were fastened on the Torterra.

It was lunch time, but Guido wasn't hungry. Daith pretended to observe the match. From the corner of his eyes, he gazed at his brother's almost emaciated form, which was poorly concealed by his clothes: a maroon sleeveless shirt and brown walking shorts. He took a look at his footwear: a pair of worn out rubber slippers that demanded retirement. Keeping his face impassive took immense effort.

The Medicham bounded towards the Grimer with a palm outstretched, while its partner glowed and emitted rings of energy. Probably a Calm Mind. Slower than its opponent, the Grimer shuddered as the Force Palm struck. The Poison pokémon did not retaliate; instead its trainer called out a "Minimize!" to make it difficult for the next attacks to land. As for the Torterra, it wasted no time in launching a Razor Leaf, which sliced through both foes.

"How long are you staying here, Ruby?"

Ruby. Daith was relieved that he was able to prevent his hands from clenching. Guido knew better than to call him that. His fingers strayed to the round, ruby-colored stud on his left ear. What exactly was he playing at?

"Maybe until the end of the Fair."

The air around the Grimer suddenly rippled. Despite its diminished size, it swayed from the effectiveness of the Confusion attack, but stood its ground and fired a Sludge Bomb, which splatted on the Medicham. The Torterra gave no chance for the Solrock to attack. It strode to the Rock-Psychic pokémon and sunk its teeth onto its hard surface. Solrock trembled before crashing to the ground.

"Are you coming home?"

Daith's mouth thinned. He never came home whenever he visited the island. Guido fully knew he hated being home. He placed a hand on the other's head and patted it before fishing out an envelope from his pocket.

"Here. Work has been paying off, so I added a little more compared to last year's."

Guido stared at the envelope before pushing it back into his hands. Daith's fingers brushed through the other's, and his retrocognition activated. He saw an angular face whose eyes were masked in shadow. The image of an Alakazam flashed beside it. "You keep it for now. I'll get it later. Maybe I'll use it to replace the plants at home. For some reason they aren't as healthy as they used to be."

It was a colossal effort to shrug off-handedly and to return the money to his pocket. He shifted his attention back to the match. It was down to the Torterra and Grimer versus the Medicham. Unless that Medicham had an ace up its sleeve, like perhaps an Ice attack that could slug the Grass-Ground behemoth, then it was a goner.

The Medicham vaulted towards Torterra with a foot ready to destroy—a Hi Jump Kick. Unfortunately for the Fighting-Psychic pokémon, it was a random, shortsighted move that failed to delay the inevitable. Grimer launched another Sludge Bomb and Torterra sliced it with another Razor Leaf. And that was it. Medicham fell.

Guido joined in the clapping and looked like he wanted to approach the Torterra and its trainer. Daith gently nudged the other's back towards the winner with a small smile that was painful to maintain.

"Why don't you check out the Sinnoh Grass starter?"

"That's… that's the Grass starter from where you work?"

Still smiling, Daith nodded.

Guido seemed to think hard before answering. "I can't. I have to go. See you around, Ruby."

Again that bothersome nickname. His cheeks were going to cramp any moment now. Who knew smiles were such high maintenance affairs? Especially when he felt like frowning. He waved at Guido's retreating back, then slipped his hands into his pockets and felt the envelope. His hand clenched around it.

Who was that man with shadowed eyes? The Alakazam? Were they connected to his younger brother's odd behavior?

Maybe he should take a look around the house. He could not believe what Guido had said about the house plants wilting. No way that a Grass wielder who specialized in making things bloom would allow that to happen. There was simply no way.

And what was it with that "Ruby" moniker? That was what his parents used to call him, before that unfortunate event eight years ago. Before that event that forced him to leave Ochre Village, ill-prepared for a world that was hostile to individuals who were different. A time when he believed in the infallibility of parenthood. He had been deluding himself, that much he knew now.

A smoke. That was what he needed right now. He brought out his box of cigarettes, shook one out, and lit it. The drag he took was long, sweet, and satisfying.

"Hey, you!" the Grimer's trainer, a well-built man in a vest and rugged black jeans, called to him. "Think you can take on my Grimer?"

Daith looked at him. The man was probably all cocky about beating the Solrock and Medicham despite the defensive disadvantage. To tell the truth, he didn't want to take this match, especially because the man just wasn't at his level.

"No, thank you," he softly replied, and didn't care if he wasn't heard over the din of other pokémon battles.

"Are you chicken?"

Daith closed his eyes and took another lengthy drag. He unclasped Arbok's pokéball from his belt and released the serpentine Poison pokémon. He didn't need a pokédex to tell that his opponent was less than half Arbok's strength.

"You're losing this one, friend," the Grimer's trainer declared with a smirk.

He shook his head. Something was definitely wrong with the entire set-up.

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_Thank you for reading! Sorry this seems to be taking so long building up, but things will pick up soon (I hope). Or maybe it's just me being paranoid. :D_


	16. Chapter 15

Author's Notes  
_Wow! This chapter poured out like champagne! It's rather long, but I really enjoyed writing it. Competitions and races galore. Hope you guys enjoy reading it, too._

_Again, this is an edited version. Same change as in the previous chapter._

_I don't own Pokémon. The plot Bunearies will scold me if I claimed I did. Not to mention a thousand lawyers. :D_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 15**

"And it's Rushdart in the lead, folks!" the announcer boomed. "The past two rounds have been purely dominated by this whizzing worm!"

"I can't see anything," Wade grumbled. Though he doubted he had been heard, what with all the screams, stomps, and whistles assaulting his senses.

The sun scorched his skin. People pressed on him with sweaty, smelly bodies. Wade covered his ears so his eardrums wouldn't shatter from the roar of the audience. His foot was nearly stomped on by a jumping idiot who couldn't express his excitement in less harmful methods. To top it all off, he couldn't even catch a glimpse of the racing Caterpie, Weedle, and Wurmple that everyone seemed to be making a big fuss about. Including Skye and his moronic friends. At least they were having a good time.

[You should, too,] Slowbro said.

Beside him, Skye screamed like a maniac. Camille unleashed an unladylike grunting cheer, while Nico persisted at yelling, "You can do it, Wallopfoot!"

[I'd rather kiss a Qwilfish.]

[We'll try to find one, then,] Umbreon teased.

[Can you see the race?] Skye asked telepathically.

[No.]

The blonde laughed, bent down, inserted his head between Wade's legs—"What do you think you're doing, you moron—!"—and hoisted him up on his shoulders—"Hey! _Put me down, now!_"

[Can you see now?]

"I am not a little kid!" Wade growled and bashed a fist on Skye's head. "Quit it; this is embarrassing! Put me down! Are you even listening to me? I said, _put me down_!"

Except that it didn't seem possible anymore, as the frenzied crowd chose to close in on them.

[So who's in the lead?] Skye asked. The idiot didn't appear bothered by all the people squishing themselves into each other. Neither did he seem to mind the bump on his head.

Wade glared at him one last time before surveying the track. A wide space that could accommodate the racing pokémon and the adoring fans, it was right beside the Ebony grasslands. Geodude and Graveler bordered the roadway itself, which formed a distorted loop, like a gigantic rubber band left on the floor. The Rock-Ground pokémon ensured that no bug strayed from the race course, and that no spectator could disrupt the race. Surrounding the perimeter of the track were numerous wide, elevated wooden platforms where viewers could watch unimpeded by the rest of the audience's heads. Wade, Skye, Nico, and Camille were on one of those platforms now, which groaned under the sheer weight of all the screaming teenagers cheering for their favorites.

He took a look at the scramble on the track. Smoke trailed in the racing pokémon's wake. His eyes widened. For a bunch of bugs they sure were speedy! Maybe even enough to beat a car. He squinted and spotted a yellow, horned bug zipping through the race course without letting any of its competitors get a lead.

"It's a Weedle!" he found himself shouting over the roar.

"What? What's the number on its back?" Nico yelled.

"Eleven!"

Nico released an earth-shattering "Nooooooo!" that signified the end of his world. "What about a Wurmple, number nine?"

Wade squinted again. "It's third!"

"Go, go, Wallopfoot!" Nico screamed and pumped both fists into the air. "There's still one more lap! You can do it!"

"I wanna go higher!" Camille shrieked as she pulled herself onto Nico's shoulders and promptly sat on them. Nico swayed and nearly toppled over, but the weight of all the other teens pressing on him gave him no chance. Camille grunted another resounding cheer that matched the intensity of the crowd's roars.

Wade strained to hear the announcer, whose voice perpetually competed with the screaming audience. "What's this, what's this? There's a Wurmple catching up to Rushdart!" Nico went wild as he heard this. "It's… it's number two! It's Marjorie! And it's making a beeline for Rushdart the Weedle! What an upset, folks! Just a little more… a little more… and Marjorie's in the lead!"

Nico wailed and looked like he wanted to knock his head into a wall. So much for his bet. The final lap was on, and his Wurmple didn't look any closer from gaining the lead.

For some odd reason, Wade felt like idiotically screaming with the rest of the throng. Was it the fact that he was perched on top of Skye's shoulders? That he had a clear view of all the hubbub? Who knew that this bug-based enthusiasm could be so infectious! And to think he didn't even like the little critters. After a little pondering he let go of his inhibitions and hooted like the rest of them.

[Wade! To your left! Looks like Guido made it!]

He swung his head to the left. A few seconds of searching the sea of heads made him think that Skye had hallucinated, but then his eyes focused on a figure squatting on the thick branch of a lone tree not far from the race track. Untidy tangle of hair and skinny frame, that indeed looked like Guido.

"This is it, folks!" the announcer blurted out like a machine gun. "The last round, the final run! Who will be the fastest bug on the island? We have a Wurmple and a Weedle vying for the title, 'The Breakneck Bug!' Will it be Marjorie, or Rushdart?"

The crowd roared and whistled. Again, Wade found himself cheering like the rest. Skye pumped a fist into the air and howled like a madman.

Loud gasps suddenly shot out from the sea of people. Wade sucked in a shocked breath through gritted teeth.

"Ladies and gentlemen, someone get Nurse Joy! It seems that Marjorie slammed into a Graveler and knocked itself out. But the race goes on, folks, let's not forget that! While the pokémedics take care of that injured Wurmple, let's see who's the next contender—It's Wallopfoot the Wurmple, number nine! Look at that worm go!"

No longer watching the race, Wade focused his attention on the three or four people who had detached themselves from the crowd and were tending to Marjorie. A woman with pink hair and a uniform that managed to remain pristine white despite the dust and dirt recalled the fainted pokémon into a pokéball. Looks like Nurse Joy had everything under control… He caught a glimpse of Guido from the corner of his eye intently observing the pokémedics, and abruptly remembered that the thin boy adored the little bugs.

Nico was currently going berserk. He flailed his arms, cackled like a lunatic, and repeatedly leapt in place, enough to make the surrounding teens give him space as they began to doubt his sanity. Camille bopped him one to shut him up.

"This is it, this is it!" the announcer boomed. "Cameras ready for the momentous shot! And the Breakneck Bug is…"

Wade could no longer remove his eyes from the scrambling worms. His breath caught as the pokémon drew closer and closer to the finish line. Was Wallopfoot going to make it?

"And there it is! We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen! It's Rushdart!"

The race track exploded with roars and applause, and if there were any boos and groans—like the sounds coming from Nico—they were entirely overpowered. Camille lost her head and shrieked at the top of her lungs. Skye didn't care that Wade was sitting on his shoulders; he jumped and screamed like there was no tomorrow. Wade, tempted to yank Skye's ponytail in admonishment, simply clung on for dear life. Though to tell the truth, he didn't mind all the horsing around.

After all… It was kind of fun.

- x x x -

Half an hour later found the four of them outside the raffle room. Nico had regained his cheer when he won a Weedle. Unfortunately for Skye, he got neither a Wurmple nor a Caterpie, and the moron was making a big show looking all dejected about it. Camille slapped him on the back and said, "Don't worry about it; there's always next year. Or you can buy one, with you being the rich pokémart owner's son and all. Besides, we're going to have something to get busy about, right?"

"Looks like it," muttered Nico, his new Weedle tucked in his arms like a plushie. Wade glared at the Bug-Poison pokémon and hid a safe distance behind Skye's back. Nico's eyes narrowed at him, as if at any moment Wade would pounce and squash the poor bug flat.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of bugs, Wade." Skye flashed him an annoying grin, to which he answered with a sullen glower. The long-haired blonde sniggered. "Anyway, I brought the stuff. We're going to another competition." Wade blankly stared at Skye's hand as it clasped his arm and dragged him off, with Nico brooding behind them and Camille merrily following.

"Where are we going?"

"The beach."

"What competition?"

"You'll love it."

If that was the case, then why did Wade have this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach? He looked back and found Camille's wide grin and expectant eyes to be absolutely terrifying. Nico trailed behind with a blank face, though Wade had a feeling that his mouth ached from not frowning.

What was going on? And what was his problem? The Worm Dash was finished, and no one was forcing him to stay. Still walking—and nearly tripping over a trainer's Eevee and crashing into a clown and his Mr. Mime selling balloons—Wade swung back and scowled at the knapsack that Skye was carrying. He dreaded what was in it. What "stuff" had he been talking about?

As they wound around tourists and booths and with Skye still lugging him, Wade felt his anxiety freeze when he saw a banner with the words "Swimmer's Cup! Test the bonds of trainer and pokémon in the raging seas!" A contest that involved Water pokémon! Totally forgetting his previous sense of foreboding, he overtook Skye and started leading him towards the beach.

"Are we watching the Swimmer's Cup?" asked Wade, still trotting to a sandy clearing near the shore that was designated for the audience of the competition. Though the afternoon sun could fry an egg, the cool wind from the sea assuaged the heat. Poles with blue ribbons and streamers towered around them, and a few multicolored beach umbrellas lazed on the sand. When he took a look at the ocean he spotted a number of white buoys with arrows. Probably to guide the swimmers throughout the race.

"Not that way," Skye said as he hauled him in another direction.

"But I want to watch the Swimmer's Cup!" Wade argued. He nearly flinched at the whiny tone in his voice.

"We're going to do better than that."

"Much better," Camille echoed in a sing-song fashion. She still wore that unsettling grin. The worse part of it was, Nico had a smile of his own, and it was far from friendly. Conspiratorial, maybe…?

"What could be better than—?"

The four arrived in front of a booth with a sign that said, "Registered entries." A lady wearing a visor and shades smiled at them and asked, "Are you Wade Andies? The rest of the participants have already arrived; you're the last one who hasn't signed in." She then pointed at a collection of cottages behind her that were constructed from bamboo and straw. "The changing rooms are this way, and you can also put your things inside." She handed him a key attached to a square-shaped keychain with the number twelve embossed on it. "You can use this to lock the cottage. Though security's not a problem since we have three guards who will be regularly patrolling the participants' holding areas. You'll be going in the race with your Gyarados, am I correct?"

For a good ten seconds, Wade stared at the lady. Then spent another good ten seconds gawking at the sign. When things finally sunk in, he gathered all the loathing he could muster and directed it into a petrifying glare at Skye, who had the nerve to beam at him.

"No, I am _not_ doing this—"

"Here's your swimming gear," Skye said as he pulled out a pair of goggles and black swimming shorts from the knapsack.

"Did you hear me? _I am not doing this_!"

"I brought some lotion to protect you from sunburns," Skye continued as he pushed the goggles and shorts into his hands. "It's here somewhere…"

"I'm going to kill you," Wade growled.

"I brought one more, just in case," Camille said as she chucked a bottle of lotion at Skye.

Wade seized the front of Skye's shirt and shook him hard. "How brain-damaged can you get? Entering me in some contest without my knowing!"

"Th-th-thanks, C-C-C-Camille!"

"Your friend must be excited to be entered in the Swimmer's Cup," the lady manning the registration booth commented cheerfully.

Skye kept the grin on his face. [This is what you get for being… what was that word you used? "Snappish." This is what you get for being snappish last night.]

Wade's hands froze. He looked away. An uncomfortable feeling twisted his gut, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was in a competition with game mechanics that he knew nothing about. He gasped as an arm slung around his nape.

"It'll be fun. I have complete confidence in your abilities. And remember, this is Gyarados we're talking about. You're gonna win this, Wade."

A warmth replaced that uncomfortable feeling. He glanced at the idiot, still accompanied by his faithful smile.

"Did you choose Gyarados?" Wade asked quietly.

"You betcha."

Wade shifted his gaze to the swimming shorts and goggles. "I need to change," he muttered. "Skye… Just one last thing?"

"Huh? Need anything else? I have a towel in the knapsack, too, and an extra change of clothes—"

Wade' fist connected with Skye's arm. Hard. His fingers were still twitching when he walked off towards the changing area.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! You didn't have to fracture my arm!" Afraid to utter anything, Nico and Camille simply gaped.

"Come back here once you're done so I can orient you!" the lady handling the registration booth called to him. Wade answered with a snarl that would have made an Arcanine proud.

- x x x -

"The contest's fairly simple," the lady with the visor and shades began. "Participants get pulled by a Water pokémon of their choice across an aquatic race track that we've marked with buoys. No riding, the participant has to stay in the water. Whoever gets towed to the finish line first is the winner. Now remember, it's not the pokémon passing through the finish line that counts; it has to be the _trainer_ getting past the designated endpoint of the race. Oh, and one last thing. All participants have to maintain physical contact with their pokémon all throughout the course, because the moment that the trainer and pokémon get separated then the duo is disqualified."

[So I guess it's pointless being speedy if the trainer can't keep up,] Skye observed. [It's really a concerted effort between the trainer and the pokémon.]

[You do realize that I still hate you for doing this, right?] Wade, wearing his black swimming shorts and with his goggle slung around his neck, directed the thought like a missile that was ready to explode into the other's mind. He added a death glare for good measure.

[You'll change your tune when you win.] Skye punctuated his reply with an infuriating laugh.

"I think they're going to repeat the rules before the race," Nico said. His multi-colored polo shirt had been tucked away in the knapsack, and he was barefoot. Camille had dredged up a blue two-piece bikini and sunglasses of her own from somewhere and was occupied with scrutinizing the other participants. Wade followed her gaze and saw a veritable Water pokémon bonanza: blue-skinned Golduck, stalwart Poliwrath, sleek Vaporeon, a pair of plump Azumarill, hard-shelled Cloyster, and a few others that he did not recognize. He shivered, but from what emotion he wasn't exactly sure.

"You should get your pokémon out," Skye suggested. "Let the others know the kind of competition they're facing and should be trembling about."

His face as unreadable as a clean sheet of paper, Wade ambled to the shore with Gyarados's pokéball in hand. Three other participants approached him: one a portly man whose body approximated a sphere, another a squat fellow who only reached up to Wade's chest, and the last a strapping teen who showed off his well-built physique with skimpy neon yellow swimming trunks. Their faces weren't friendly.

"You from this bumpkin island, kid?" the fat man asked.

"Can you even swim?" the short guy followed up.

"Because we're not saving you if you drown," the brawny teen finished.

"I'd quit that trash talk if I were you," said Skye, striding over to them with a menacing glint in his eyes. "Back off."

"Ooh, are we scared of the competition?" the fat man asked.

"Not that you're going to be any," the short guy added.

"We're not sure who's going to get that prize money," the brawny teen said. "But it's sure as tomorrow that it won't be you."

"You're asking for it, punk," Skye growled, his fists shaking. Taken a little aback at the blonde's sudden vehemence, Wade decided that the best way not to get a penalty before the race even started—and before stupid Skye got any ideas about using his Flying wielder powers!—was to bring out his beast of a pokémon. He flung the pokéball high into the air, towards the water. Out popped the blue behemoth, which splashed on the sea and brought forth a roar.

"What the—!"

"Get that thing out of here!"

"That's cheating!"

An awed "Ooh" resounded from the audience. Gyarados surveyed its surroundings before bending down so Wade could stroke under its chin. It rumbled a contented note. Wade vaulted up on its head, after which the Water-Flying pokémon straightened its neck and elevated their range of vision.

[Remind me to thank Skye for this,] Gyarados said cheekily.

[Remind me to chuck a Qwilfish under his blankets later,] Wade replied. Below them, the crowd had gathered and were ogling like idiots. [Anyway, you see those buoys with the arrows? They point to where we're supposed to go. I guess you just have to follow until we reach the finish line.]

[So you'll be clinging to my tail, right?] Gyarados was ponderously quiet for a while before continuing. [How fast should we go?]

[Just keep swimming. I can keep up. But we'll have to make sure that I stay in the water and that we don't get separated.]

Gyarados grinned. [That's my trainer for you. What do we do if things get rough?]

Wade glanced at the other Water pokémon. [They won't be a problem. You have my permission to chomp their heads off with a Bite or Ice Fang if they try anything funny.]

"Wade!" Skye called. He looked down and saw the other waving a white piece of cloth with the number twelve on it. "Tie this around Gyarados so the judges and commentators have a point of reference!"

_As if being the only Gyarados wasn't enough of a point of reference,_ Wade thought mutinously. As the Water-Flying pokémon bent its neck, he hopped down and snatched the number, then directed a cold face at the three trash-talkers. Maybe he should target their pokémon first…

"I know Skye told me to write down Gyarados as Wade's partner," he heard Nico mumble, "but this is ridiculous…"

"Ladies and gentlemen!" a voice that could draw in the most apathetic spectator with its bravado boomed over speakers. Wade hurried tying the piece of cloth around Gyarados's neck. "We're about to commence the Swimmer's Cup! Participants, let's all line up in order of our numbers!"

"This is it," Skye said. He clenched his fists, took deep breaths, then flashed Wade a thumbs-up sign.

Gyarados swam into position near the shore in between the pair of Azumarill. Wade slid down his pokémon's back and into the water, which wasn't too cold. The wetness enveloping his body soothed him in the familiar way that it always did whenever he was in the sea. He plunged fully into the water, blew out a few bubbles from his nose, and splashed to the surface with a renewed vigor. He could do this. It was just like searching for Water Stones, Mystic Waters, or King's Rocks, but with a time limit.

The announcer went through the rules one more time. Wade placed his hands tightly around Gyarados's tail end. His toes curled over the sand. He steadied his breathing, made it regular. Once the announcer was finished, a few of the audience members let out a couple of catcalls.

"We're talking twenty grand for the first prize winner," the commentator continued. "Then there's twelve for first runner up, and eight for the second. The champion's partner also receives a whole mountain of Chinchou Chow, the best chow there is for Water pokémon, 'so electrifying that it'll light you up!'"

[Ooh,] Gyarados almost squealed—an awkward sound that made Wade's insides cringe. [The money's all yours, Wade. But I'm not sharing my Chinchou Chow.]

"Are our racers ready?"

The various aquatic pokémon called out their eagerness. Gyarados roared and drowned out even the cheering audience.

"Then let's get this show on the road! On your mark…"

[Ready for my signal, Gyarados.] Wade slapped his goggles on.

"… Get set…"

[Let's leave them in the spray.]

"… Go!"

[Dragon Dance!]

As the rest of the pokémon burst forth with immense splashes, Gyarados, glowing an intense mix of flaming reds and icy blues, twisted and coiled while keeping its tail in the water. Wade coolly let himself be yanked as the Atrocious pokémon cavorted.

"Hey stupid!" the brawny teen called over the raging waves. His Poliwrath paddled as if pursued by a predator. "Your Gyarados out of control?" Even from this distance Wade could still hear the obnoxious voice. "That's what you get for showing off!"

Gyarados suddenly stopped. Wade took a fleeting moment to check where the other swimmers were. His grip on his pokémon's tail fins tightened.

[Now, fly!]

- x x x -

Skye dragged out a sigh of relief. For a moment he had thought that Gyarados had gone out of control. To his left Nico watched with faint interest, while to his right Camille grunted out a spelling cheer—"W-A-D-E, that's our Wade, the champ of the sea!"

"He's doing better than I thought," Nico remarked. He glanced at Skye with a growing smile. "Who knew that the creepy kid you have to share a room with can slice through those waves?"

Despite his own grin, Skye's eyebrow twitched. He bit his tongue to prevent a caustic retort from breaking out.

Said creepy kid clung on to Gyarados's tail despite the almost impossible speed. What else was to be expected after that Dragon Dance? If he remembered correctly it enhanced both the user's physical attack and speed. That was nice and all, but could Wade hang on?

- x x x -

His fingers ached. His lungs burned. Sea spray obscured his goggles. He could have sworn that he had already drunk half the ocean. Yet he hung on. He had never felt so alive.

[We're catching up!] Gyarados mentally exclaimed.

[It's that fat guy's Cloyster,] Wade said as he peered to his right and squinted. [He looks like a beach ball floating on the waves.]

[Bye-bye, beach ball!] The blue monster unleashed another roar. The duo passed the rotund racer, and just to spite him Wade kicked up a tidal wave of spray at his face. [We're almost catching up with the dumpy dope. You okay back there?]

Wade spit out the seawater that had snuck into his mouth. [Fly, Gyarados! Just keep flying!]

- x x x -

"This is quite a sight, people!" the announcer thundered. "Number twelve's soaring past the competition! Turns out that the kid's Gyarados did a Dragon Dance to boost its speed! But the question is, can its trainer, Wade Andies, keep up? Remember boys and girls, once a trainer gets separated from his pokémon he's outta the race!"

Skye didn't care if he got hoarse from screaming. Just three more participants and Wade would be in the lead! The race wasn't halfway done yet, so there were many chances to grab that first.

- x x x -

Wade's legs kicked continuously through the water. Finally! One competitor left. And it was that arrogant jerk with the Poliwrath. The brawny teen shot a look of hatred at him and egged his pokémon on to a faster pace. The Water-Fighting pokémon swung its impressive arms like a rotor.

"Double-Slap, Poliwrath!"

"What the—!"

Poliwrath inched closer and executed a series of smacks without losing any speed. Dumbfounded more from the distraction than from the damage, Gyarados veered to the side and almost straight into a buoy with a sign that pointed left. The serpentine pokémon quickly looped around it and went back to position beside the muscular jerk.

[Why I oughta…]

[Don't, Gyarados. We're not going down to their level. Just keep gliding across the water's surface. But if they do that again, munch them up with a Bite.]

Wade peered at the distance through blurry goggles and caught a glimpse of a pair of red buoys with red flags on top. A jet ski with a lifeguard drifted nearby.

There it was! The finish line. With one thought in mind, Wade and Gyarados doubled their efforts and zoomed towards the red buoys. Not to be outdone, Poliwrath attempted another Double-Slap, but Gyarados dodged to the side without missing a beat. It reared its head and feinted a Bite, which caused the other pokémon to careen into a float. A satisfying yell pierced the constant splash and rush of the sea.

And that was it. He hurtled through the finish line with victory in hand.

- x x x -

Yelling his lungs out, Skye ran towards Wade, who looked like he was expending a monstrous effort just to crawl out of the sea. When he tried to stand up, his knees trembled and he splashed back into the salty water. His chest heaved and his breaths came in gasps and pants. When Skye knelt beside him the brown-haired youth almost fell into his arms. Behind them, the crowd closed in with rolling applause and deafening cheers.

A microphone suddenly popped out from nowhere. The lady holding it wore a safari hat, blue sunglasses, and a bright green one-piece that contrasted with her tan.

"Smile for the camera!" the reporter said with a beam. "Wade Andies, right? You're a fantastic swimmer, and you were the only contender with such a fearsome pokémon by your side! What was that move at the start of the race?"

"Dragon Dance," Skye immediately answered with a quick look at Wade, who couldn't speak yet due to the large gulps of air he was still taking. "It's a Dragon technique that increases the user's physical attack and speed."

"Do you swim often?" the reporter asked. "It looked like you were really in your element out there." After Wade's nod, she rapidly proceeded with her next question. "How's your Gyarados faring?" When they looked back at the ocean they found the Water-Flying pokémon zooming around the water and roaring raucously. The reporter nearly dropped the microphone. "Oh my. It looks pretty pleased with itself, doesn't it?"

"Young man!" a bald old man wearing a pink shirt with orange flowers greeted. "I'm Leonard Greeley, the head-organizer of the Swimmer's Cup. Why don't you come over to the winner's stands so you can get your trophy and prize?"

"You did it, Wade!" Skye effused. "Can you stand? Or do I have to haul you over to the winner's stands?" Laughing at the other's sopping-wet appearance and wobbly knees, he hoisted him up and led him to a wooden platform. Wade clung onto him as they made their way through the throng, which parted to let them pass. Skye pulled out a towel from the knapsack and wrapped it around the other's shoulders.

The guy with the Poliwrath was already on the winner's stands. He frowned on seeing Wade and was about to open his mouth to utter some smart-alecky remark when Skye hurled a telekinetic sweep from under his feet. The brawny boy fell on his rump.

"Are you alright?" the third placer, a girl who had one of the Azumarill as her partner, asked concernedly. Wade aimed an amused look at Skye, who answered with an innocent shrug.

"Must be slippery on the stands. You better be careful you don't trip."

[Slippery my foot,] replied Wade, smirking. [You have some pretty stupid ideas. But I have to admit, this whole Swimmer's Cup thing worked. Twenty thousand pokéyen. We better celebrate somewhere. Maybe I'll go buy a Qwilfish.]

Skye laughed. And what was he going to do with a Qwilfish? He must really love Water pokémon that much.

Each of the winners received a trophy. As the head-organizer presented the biggest of them all along with a truckload of Chinchou Chow to Wade, confetti popped out from balls hanging from the poles. The crowd went wild. Wade, who could finally stand without someone supporting him, took a bow as he faced the audience. With a cheering Nico and a shrieking Camille flanking him, Skye watched on proudly.

"Thank you for joining and making the Swimmer's Cup such a success!" the head-organizer said over the speakers. "We have more fun activities and events all throughout the Pokémon Fair, such as the Preston Carnival, the Ocean Ballet, and of course, the Beam Tournament where trainers go head to head with other trainers in fierce pokémon battles! That's tomorrow at nine o'clock in the morning, everyone! Thank you again, and have a good day!"

As the crowd dispersed, the old man approached the winners with a hangdog grin and said, rather softly, "Well, I'm so sorry to have to say this, but the prize money will have to follow. Our runners got stuck with another event and can't get the money out from our account. We have your addresses and some of your account numbers, so you don't have to worry about not receiving your prizes. We'll try to have them out before the Fair ends. You guys okay with that?"

Skye looked at Wade, who simply shrugged. The brown-haired youth then directed his attention to the dump-truck beside the winner's stands that held all the packs of Chinchou Chow.

"Hey Gyarados," Wade called, "come on over here, will you? Get a gander at all this food! It must be a year's worth!"

The Water-Flying pokémon slid out of the water and circled the truckload of Chinchou Chow. It then stopped and grinned like a kid.

Skye climbed the dump-truck to inspect the packages. He sat on one of the yellow sacks, which sported big blue letters and a picture of a squat Chinchou. Wade wasn't pushing it when he said that this entire batch must be a year's worth.

"Chuck me one, will you?" Wade called.

Skye obliged. He watched keenly as the other pitched the bag of pokéchow to the conceited teen he had beaten.

"Why don't you treat that Poliwrath of yours?" Wade suggested gruffly. "It has a lot of potential, and I wouldn't mind catching a Poliwag myself so I can train it into a brute like yours. Hey Skye, can you throw a few more bags? I think all the Water pokémon here are hungry."

Skye smiled then glanced at Nico, who had a wondering look. The participating trainers cheered as they each caught a sack. Most of them ripped the bags open and tossed a few pieces to their pokémon, which swiftly gobbled them up. The Poliwrath gazed at the bag with such hopeful eyes that the muscular kid had no choice but to open the package. Gyarados had no such compunctions about waiting for a go signal from its trainer; it dived headlong into the dump truck, chomped on a bag, and shamelessly ripped it to shreds.

Skye was about to toss another bag to a burly man when he realized that he wasn't one of the competitors. But too late, the sack flew and caught the guy right in his potbelly. He grunted and glared at Skye.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry!" Skye called. "I thought you were one of the—Huh? Officer Malone? What are you doing here?"

The police officer stared at him a long time before answering. "Would you mind getting down for a sec?"

"Hey Wade!" Skye called as he leapt to the sandy ground. "Officer Malone's here!" He turned his attention back to the hefty man and said, "Guess what! Wade won first at the Swimmer's Cup!"

"Really, now?" Officer Malone still wore a serious expression. "What did Mr. Greeley say about the prize money?"

"It'll follow," Wade replied. Beside him Gyarados was still making mincemeat of the sack of Chinchou Chow.

Officer Malone looked around surreptitiously. His eyes fell on each of the participants, who were occupied feeding their pokémon, and then to Mr. Greeley, who was speaking with one of his aides. For some reason the old man was perspiring heavily and was flapping the front of his flowery shirt. "Did you guys notice anyone suspicious anytime during the race?"

Skye frowned. He had a feeling that he wouldn't like where the police officer was heading. "Has something happened?"

Officer Malone shifted his full attention at him. Skye met his gaze head on, but inside he flinched.

"Something's happened, alright. The reason why you won't be getting the reward right now is because everything's been stolen. Not only the cash from the Swimmer's Cup, but the prize money and bets from the Worm Dash, as well."

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_You see that li'l icon below? Would you mind pressing it and dropping some concrit? They do help. :D_


	17. Chapter 16

Author's Notes_  
-gasp, wheeze…- It's finally here… Sorry it's out only now, I had a spell where my writing drive dried up. I had to shorten this chappie, because if I had gone full-throttle with my original plan for this chapter it might've reached a hefty sixteen or seventeen pages (twice my usual). So I decided to crop it. I just hope I didn't kill it… o_o_

_I don't own Pokémon. No own, no sue. Mary Sue? Ooh. Okay, I'm going to stop being a retard, now. XD  
_

_Happy Holidays! :D_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 16**

"Of all times for the dratted phone to ring," Allison muttered as he applied a black, CD-like device to the forehead of a small brown bird that was a common sight in the grasslands outside Ebony Town: a Pidgey. The Normal-Flying pokémon fluttered its wings and hooted as its trainer, a twelve-year old girl whose teeth sported blue braces, tried to hold it still. Angeline scampered to the storeroom to answer the phone, which allowed Allison to focus on the task at hand: teaching the Pidgey Roost.

The pokémart was a step below anarchy this afternoon. A bunch of Potions had tumbled from one of the shelves when one of the kids had accidentally crashed into it. Good thing that those children had been unhurt, and that the containers weren't made of glass. But that didn't stop a couple of the covers to pop out and spill the restoratives. Then, there was that teen whose hair was styled into a pink mohawk and whose get-up belonged more in a drag race than in a pokémart. Waiting in a lengthy line to avail of his services as a move tutor, the guy had lost his patience and had started screaming bloody murder, as well as released a Weezing that had sprayed enough Smog to knock out a whole herd of Tauros. Lilibeth had slammed the punk on the head with a broom, and Allison had subdued the Poison pokémon with Crobat. Add in the twenty or so teenagers who were at the moment running amok between the shelves and the police who had arrived to apprehend the troublemaker, and he was at his wits' end.

And to think he was supposed to spend the entire day at the Evolution Exhibit! All those theories on branched evolutions, all those evolution items waiting to be scrutinized, all those pokémon excited to be examined! Then Angeline had sent a distress signal to his cell phone, claiming that too many customers were demanding a move tutor. Which was why he was back, catering to a line that was so long it spilled out the door.

"There, all done," Allison said as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "You can pay the eight hundred at the cashier. Next please!"

"Sir, your Crobat and Mantine are done fanning the Smog out the door," Thomas, one of the help hired for the Fair, reported.

"Alright. Good work, you guys." Maybe he should keep those two pokémon out. For emergencies.

"I want a Drill Peck on my Skarmory," the next customer, a strapping lad of fourteen who wore a spiked collar around his neck, said. The bird in question regarded Allison with cold eyes. He gulped. The experience was like being scowled at by a can opener.

"Sir," Angeline called from the storeroom, "it's for you! A guy named Mr. Nachmanoff. He's from the Colors Contest."

Colors Contest? What in the world was that? Some Fair event, maybe? "I'll be right there, let me just finish this one!" He quickly drew out the machine that contained Drill Peck and clanged it on the metallic bird's head. It trilled and spread its sharp wings, which nearly sliced the counter in half. Allison sighed. He pocketed his collection of move tutor devices and dashed to the storeroom.

"Allison Andies, here."

"Good day, Mr. Andies!" the man greeted in spirits that were too high. "This is Richard Nachmanoff, one of the organizers of the Colors Contest. Are you by any chance related to Skye Andies, a fifteen year-old?"

Allison's forehead furrowed. What had his son gotten into, now? "I'm his father."

"Is he there? One of the judges is looking for him, you see. She's highly interested in finding out if he has any other works."

Judges? Works? What? His brain felt ready to explode. "I'm afraid I don't understand. But he's not here at the moment."

"Oh, bother. I guess we'll have to contact his mobile number. Thank you very much for your most precious time, sir, and have a good—"

"Just a moment, Mr. Nachmanoff. Would you mind telling me all about this 'Colors Contest' that my son's gotten into?" Looks like there'd be an interrogation later once the boy got home. He envisioned it with Skye bound to a chair by manacles and with Wade doing the torturing.

A heavy pause ensued. "… I take it that you know nothing about his participation in this Fair event?"

"It seems that way."

Another nervous pause. "Well… our rules don't really require any parental permission or anything—"

"Simply lay it out for me, Mr. Nachmanoff." Allison asked in clipped words. "Just plain and to the point."

The event organizer gulped.

- x x x -

"I'll see you boys, then," Officer Malone said with a perfunctory wave. "If you find something out, drop me a call. But don't do anything dangerous!"

Wade watched the police officer's retreating form before shifting his attention to the photograph in his hand. Skye slowly took the picture and examined it, as if faced with a riddle. It was evidence found on the site of the theft, Officer Malone had pointed out, and frankly, Wade didn't understand it at all. And even if he did want to comprehend the contents of the photograph, his mind and muscles—what were left of them, anyway—were simply too exhausted to do so.

Nico and Camille, bored with sliding down Gyarados's back, approached with the blue behemoth trailing behind them. Skye quickly pocketed the photograph and said, "Guess we'll have to celebrate some other time, then. Anyone feel like going home?"

"It's been a tiring day," Camille agreed, her voice raspy. "Besides, if I'm going to do any shopping tomorrow morning then I need a good night's sleep."

"And if I'm going to do what I think I'm going to do tomorrow," Nico muttered with an eyebrow arched at her, "I'd better do the same." He offered a smile to Skye and Wade as he collected his multi-colored shirt from the knapsack. "It was really fun, you guys. We had a great time, and I got myself a new pokémon while we were at it. It would be great to do this again, especially if we get to see another of Wade's hidden talents. I hope you aren't the type who can breathe fire or juggle a bunch of Spheal or something." He laughed at his own joke. Wade's cheeks ached from not grimacing.

"We'll be seeing you!" Camille said as she grabbed Nico's hand and sauntered off.

The afternoon was still hot, but it was no longer as scorching as it had been a few hours ago. The soft breeze and the rush of the waves blanketed the beach with a restful atmosphere, which complemented the sound of laughing children making castles and footprints in the sand. A few pink Slowpoke loafed on the rocks protruding from the surface of the sea, and sometimes a Wailmer would accidentally bounce itself ashore, promptly attracting a number of tourists to take pictures with it.

A few of the organizers and equipment movers who had lingered spotted Wade and threw him affable waves and hearty congratulations. Wade blushed a deep crimson before nailing his eyes on his bare feet and muttering, "Can we go home now? Gyarados must be hungry."

"But it just devoured three sacks of Chinchou Chow!" Skye replied incredulously. "Including the sack!" And just for good measure the Water-Flying pokémon released a generous burp.

"Thanks for all your efforts, Gyarados," Wade mumbled before returning it to its pokéball.

[Anytime. I hope I wasn't the only one who had fun.]

"Are you still going to kill me?" Skye asked with a grin.

Wade stared at him then looked away. He felt extremely worn out, and the Swimmer's Cup was only part of the reason why. He had half an urge to take a look at the photograph again but decided not to.

A question that had been plaguing him since Officer Malone had revealed the nature of the heists tickled his mind. Like an ugly monster that momentarily hid in the shadows, it surfaced again and tormented his soul.

Was this the Clan at work?

He had not spotted anyone familiar. No goons, no suspicious persons, not even a single Ground pokémon or Murkrow. No news about anything unusual or disruptive to the Fair had reached his ears.

He sighed. Was he ever going to be free of the Consable Clan? Did he have to keep living the rest of his life looking back, always suspecting, forever trapped in the world of his childhood? He tightly clutched the towel around his back and suppressed a shiver.

"You cold?" Skye asked as he brought out his shirt.

"Hungry," replied Wade, his eyes on the shimmering sunlight reflected in the sea. He took the indigo shirt from the other and slipped it on without a word.

"What do you feel like having? We still have some funds from the reward that Officer Malone gave us for catching that thug. How about something fancy, like a steak? Though good old pizza sounds good, too."

Wade didn't answer. He was still contemplating his options about ruling out the possibility of Clan activity. Maybe he could drop by the police station to grill Hotnoser, Jacobson, and the rest of the gang. As a psychic he'd be able to sneak in without getting noticed and extract the information without much difficulty. That is, unless the dumb chef had no idea about what was happening, bringing him back to square one. Hopefully that wasn't the case, since Hotnoser remained to be his only plausible link with the Clan. The other option was to search that tunnel underneath the Mudhouse. Though on further mulling that idea seemed to lead to a dead end, because the police would have probably turned every rock upside down in search for clues. What about…

"You're thinking about the Clan, aren't you?" Skye said softly.

Wade's head jerked towards him. Was he that transparent? The blonde had no grin on his face.

"Let it go for now," Skye continued quietly. "The police are on it, so it's not like nothing's being done. Besides, now's not the time to be brooding about stuff like that. You should be up on the tallest cliff near the ocean shouting, 'I'm the champ of the sea!' or something as cool as that. You deserve a break once in a while, you know. Take it from your 'big bro.'"

"You're giving me a migraine, Featherhead," Wade muttered. "'I'm the champ of the sea?' How lame can you get? If I'm going to have an older brother spouting nonsense like that I'd disown him fast. While you're busy thinking up of idiotic proclamations, you may as well drum up an explanation for all the bags of Chinchou Chow that we're bringing home. Ever thought about where we're going to put all those sacks? Mr. Andies will have nightmares looking for storage space."

As if to emphasize Wade's point, the driver of the dump-truck approached them and said, "We're all set to go for your house. Are you joining us, or do we go ahead?"

_How'd they know where I…? Oh._ Of course they'd know. All of his contact information had been registered. He almost smacked himself for his paranoia and told the driver that they'd go with him.

"Can we sit in the back?" Skye asked, his eyes twinkling. "On top of all those bags?"

The driver laughed as he boarded the front seat. "Go on ahead, son."

"You'd better call your dad and tell him about this unexpected delivery," Wade cautioned.

Skye smiled nervously as he climbed on top of the pile of pokéchow bags and hoisted Wade to a spot beside him. He fished his mobile phone from one of his pockets and dialed a number. His father answered after a single ring.

"Dad, there's… Huh? … Where am I? The beach. But Wade and I are about to come home." Silence. "We're bringing home a truckload of Chinchou Chow… yeah, pokéchow for Water pokémon… It's sort of a long story…" Another pause. "We are? Alright. Give us ten to fifteen minutes. Okay. Bye!"

Skye returned his mobile phone with a pensive look. "Dad wants to talk about something."

"Is he at home?" Wade asked. "Isn't today his day off?"

"Last time I checked, it was. Maybe he wants to discuss something about the pokémart."

Wade didn't care to speculate. He plopped his back on the bags of pokéchow and closed his eyes. Fortunately Skye allowed him the luxury of napping by shutting his unmanageable mouth. Sleep grabbed him in less than a minute.

Unfortunately, wakefulness took him back before he could even start dreaming. He groggily opened his eyes to Skye's impolite shaking and sat up with a glower.

"Look at all that pokéchow!" he heard Lilibeth exclaim. Lilibeth? They were probably home already.

"Alright, everyone!" said Mr. Andies as he peeked from the doorway of the pokémart. Wade peered over the edge of the dump-truck and spotted a line of customers trickling out the door. A few nosy tourists gathered behind the vehicle to ask what was going on. "Let's transfer all the sacks to the storeroom. But make sure that there's enough space for us to get to the refrigerator. If the bags don't fit, we can put some in the boys' room."

"We'll handle everything on this side, sir!" Angeline said. "You just take care of all the trainers who need move tutor techniques."

The transport of sacks began. Skye, Wade, Angeline, Bobby, Thomas, and the driver formed a conveyor line that started at the dump-truck and ended in the storage room, while Angeline stayed behind the cash register to entertain the other customers, who by now were gawking at the moving bags.

Thirty minutes later, the driver, who had assigned himself to methodically pile the sacks in the storeroom, told everyone that there was no more space. Even the area under the table had been filled up, and if any more were going to be crammed in the room then it would become impossible to locate the refrigerator. After a go signal from Skye and Wade, the conveyor line shifted its endpoint into the second floor, and the sacks were ferried again.

"You can move the bags to my room if they don't fit anymore," said Mr. Andies, still occupied with teaching a Wartortle Aqua Ring. "Once I'm done here, you two can tell me the full story behind all this pokéchow."

As Wade caught a sack and passed it on to Skye, he glanced at the line behind Mr. Andies. At least it wasn't spilling out the door any longer. He dodged to the left as a five-year old chased a blue Wooper that was dashing around in between the shelves with its pink gills jiggling like mad.

Another half hour later found Skye, Wade, and Mr. Andies in the storeroom and gasping for air as if they had just finished a triathlon. Wade gaped as piles of Chinchou Chow sacks concealed the walls, with barely enough space for the table, chairs, and the refrigerator. Mr. Andies plunked onto a chair and sagged. Though he looked exhausted, he managed to fix his son a steely gaze.

"Mr. Nachmanoff called," he started casually.

"Mr. Nachmanoff?" Skye asked, confused.

"Yes." Mr. Andies folded his arms. "From the Colors Contest."

Wade didn't think that an entire herd of Wailmer bouncing through the storeroom could have caught Skye's notice. He looked frozen. Mr. Andies's face betrayed no emotion as he kept his attention on the blonde. Wade wanted to melt into the floor, but at the same time his mouth ached from not asking what in the world the Colors Contest was.

Mr. Andies suddenly hopped from the chair, snatched his son's hand, and towed him to their room, as if some cosmic force had taken away his exhaustion and infused him with vigor. Wade nearly tripped as he trailed behind. Once in the room, Mr. Andies ransacked Skye's drawers and flung clothes this way and that. Seemingly unsatisfied, he proceeded to Wade's and did the same thing.

"Um… Dad…?"

"Where are your formal clothes?" he nearly snapped. "I _know_ I bought you some a couple of years ago. Black slacks, a long-sleeved button-up… I think it was light blue, or was it off-white…? Where's that tie? Wade, could you get the hair gel from the bathroom? There is no way I am allowing you to arrive at the library looking like the village idiot. They'd all think, 'Didn't his parents ever teach him how to dress up properly?' Can you imagine me walking around town trying to live down that kind of shame?"

Skye seemed to have found his voice. "… But I don't want to look like a prude either, Dad." Mr. Andies continued digging through the drawers. "… How about a compromise? I go in a dress shirt, but short-sleeved. It's too warm to cover up."

Mr. Andies stopped and shot his son a hard look as he considered it. "Oh, alright. What time is the judging?"

"Seven," Skye answered. A chill ran down Wade as Mr. Andies peered at his watch and discovered that there was only one hour left to bathe, change, and skedaddle to the library. Was he going to switch into Berserk-Father Mode again?

"Do you mind if Wade and I tagged along?" Mr. Andies asked softly. Wade bit back a relieved sigh. The pokémart owner seemed sane enough and didn't look close to Berserk Mode. Still, that didn't save Wade from the prospect of gallivanting off to another part of Ebony for another of these crazy competitions. His aching body craved sleep; didn't the world understand that?

"I—" Skye looked first at the floor, then at the window. Was he blushing? Wade wondered why.

"If I were a budding artist who's nervous about the competition," Mr. Andies began gently, "I'd like to gather all the support I can get. Even if I'm shy about it. You never know what can happen when you have a couple of fans cheering for your work."

That flush in Skye's cheeks was still there. But he smiled, at least. "Thanks Dad. Let's all go."

In Wade's mind, that was when a bell clanged, as if to signal the start of a race. Unfortunately, Berserk-Father Mode had resumed. With Mr. Andies's eyes gleaming like a lunatic's and his mouth twisted into a terrifying grin, he shoved Skye into the bathroom.

"I don't expect to be done with Skye soon," he said, "so why don't you use my bathroom to shower?"

Wade dumbly nodded. He'd rather kiss a Qwilfish than have Mr. Andies jostle him into the shower for a comprehensive scrubbing and grooming. Plucking a pair of brown slacks from the mess of clothes on his bed, he dove into the other bathroom and clicked the door shut.

Twenty minutes later, Wade stepped out of the shower wearing the beige pants. On returning to the other room he found Skye struggling into a black, short-sleeved button-up with blue lines streaking through the collar and the hem of the sleeves. His Ledian, a pokémon that Wade rarely saw outside its pokéball, fluttered about like an agitated fashion consultant. When Mr. Andies, who was occupied with combing through his son's unmanageable hair, spotted him, he flung the comb at him and said, "You finish this while I change. If I had my way I'd crop this tangle into something neat and respectable, but seeing that he's so stubborn—"

"Keep those scissors away from me!" Skye nearly screeched.

Once Mr. Andies was gone, Wade moved aside the scattered clothes on the bed so he could sit behind Skye, who had gotten his buttons wrong and was going at them again. He ran the comb through the other's shoulder-length hair, which was slightly wet.

Outside, dusk crept into the sky and tinted the clouds with violets, pinks, and oranges. The smell of frying hotdogs and seafood balls snuck into the room, and it reminded Wade that they had not taken dinner yet. He ran the comb swiftly through the other's hair and didn't even slow down when Skye's head was yanked backward.

"First you toss me into a swimming race," Wade grumbled, "then you get me hauled into another competition." When Skye didn't answer, he softened his tone and slowed the comb down. "At least I'm not in it. I don't know what this is about, Featherhead, but if it has something to do with _your_ works then they'd better be good. Because if not I'm going to fracture your arm." He was relieved when Skye chuckled, albeit nervously. "And will you tell your Ledian to quit fussing?" he added as he waved the stupid bug away. "It's getting on my nerves."

The Bug-Flying pokémon chittered what Wade felt was a heated retort. "Ledian says that you're getting on its nerves, too," Skye translated. "So you guys are even." A long gap ensued, and for some odd reason there was neither awkwardness nor annoyance in it. The only sounds were the comb gliding through hair, Ledian's fluttering wings, and the din of tourists outside.

"Ponytail?" asked Wade, breaking the silence. Skye nodded and handed him a thin black ribbon. Wade gazed at the foreign object for a moment before proceeding to tie the blonde's hair with it. A full ten minutes later, he finished the feat.

"The place isn't that far," Skye said quietly, "but considering that it's quarter to seven, I don't think we'll get there in time." Wade had half the urge to point out that it was his fault in the first place—for entering him in the Swimmer's Cup when he had a competition of his own to worry about—but decided against it. The blonde's next words made his eyebrow twitch. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

That Skye was nuts? Probably not. Wade tugged an indigo short-sleeved button-up from the pile of clothes on his bed and put it on. "As long as you think that your dad's going to take it well…" Why did he even bother answering? And why was Skye consulting him about revealing his psychic powers to his father in the first place? He swallowed. "You sure about this?"

"Sure about what?" Mr. Andies asked from behind. Wade's heart shot up to his head.

[What now, Birdbrain?]

Skye ignored his question. "Are you ready to go, Dad?"

Mr. Andies gazed at his son a long time before glancing at his watch. "You know, even if the venue for the competition is nearby, it's a little farfetched to think that we'll get there in time. There _are_ the crowds to contend with, after all." Strangely, he closed the door behind him and gave them an amused grin, practically a mirror image of Skye's trademark smile. "I think Angeline and the others will be too occupied with customers to notice. What do you boys think?" He winked.

Dumbfounded silence reigned for a few seconds, after which Skye released a laugh that had him rolling on his bed. His mouth dry, Wade could only stare.

"And here we were, worrying how you'd take it," Skye said between chuckles. He looked long and hard at his father and asked, "How long have you known?"

Wade's mouth thinned. Pointedly ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he watched the two grinning like fools at each other, he hauled Skye by his collar and snapped, "We'll be late. As much as I'd like to teleport all three of us to the library _right now_, you're the only one who has any idea how they fixed the place for the contest, so you'll have to do it. Oh yeah, emphasis on 'right now,' if you didn't get that part."

Skye slipped into a pair of brown leather shoes. He placed an amiable arm around Wade's shoulder, but the brown-haired youth shrugged it off with a glower. Mr. Andies clasped his son's arm and remarked about how he had never done this before.

"You'll get used to it. Lucky for us, the bathroom in the library is clean."

"And what has that got to do with anything?" asked Mr. Andies, understandably baffled.

"You'll see," Wade replied with a sigh.

Mr. Andies pumped a fist in the air. His crazy, twinkly eyes and twisted grin were back. "Onward, ho!"

_This is one scary family... _That was Wade's last thought before vanishing from sight.


	18. Chapter 17

Author's Notes_  
And here's the next chapter! Had to edit it a few times before I felt like posting it.  
_

_Thanks much to Erriel for that very comprehensive review. Yes, I will put your gripe into much consideration when I plan my next chapters. I'll make the two of them suffer! –grins evilly- Then we can both shiver in glee. Hee. To tell the truth, your review gave me a couple of ideas for this chapter. :D  
_

_I don't own Pokémon. Good grief, I haven't even played my game in… two months? I'm so embarrassed._

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 17**

_I don't belong here,_ Guido thought uncomfortably.

[There's so much knowledge in this place,] commented a red bug with a moustache-like appendage that appeared sophisticated to some but downright goofy to others. It kept its blade-like extremities close to its face as it let its gaze roam.

Data and knowledge… a couple of things that Guido wasn't truly familiar with. After all, books were a luxury in the desert village of Ochre. He could understand Kricketune's wonder.

Though the Ebony library wasn't really big, the organized rows of shelves crammed with a multitude of dusty books bestowed an antiquated atmosphere that was present in the larger, more well-known libraries. A high ceiling and numerous windows furnished the place with an illusion of wideness. Despite the humid heat outside that could broil skin a tender red, the temperature inside was astonishingly cool, courtesy of the air-conditioning.

At the moment, Guido was walking in between two bookshelves, his black leather shoes clacking clumsily on the zigzagging wooden tiles. He was dressed in a black chalk-stripe jacket that was so oversized that he could use the thing as a blanket. He wished he had worn something warmer under it, because the moss green collared shirt he had was doing a poor job at insulation. Suddenly self-conscious, he stopped for a while and attempted to smoothen his black slacks, and his hand gripped tighter on the handle of a slender black case. Behind him, Kricketune cocked its head but kept silent.

A few more steps brought the two of them into a wide space that had been partitioned by dividers containing various paintings. The canvases differed in size; the biggest one, which was an acrylic depicting an abandoned house shaded in the colors of the night, was the show piece at the front of the gallery. He glanced at a table beside the exhibit and eyed the two guards, all clothed up in their flawless blue uniforms and crisp caps, as well as their charge: a steel combination safe. Not allowing himself to maintain too long a scrutiny, he returned his attention to the paintings and casually strolled deeper into the exhibit. But not before catching a glimpse of a man in a brown bandana, beige shirt, jeans, and sneakers. The scrawny guy was leaning nonchalantly on the side of one of the bookshelves. Guido knew why he was here.

[The watcher,] Kricketune thought darkly.

An unseen hand caressed his mind. The image of his father tied up in one of the spacious chambers of Coast Cave flashed before his eyes. He shivered but walked on.

Visitors who fancied themselves as art connoisseurs, or at least those who supposedly had a discerning eye regarding paintings, wandered through the gallery and paused occasionally to inspect a watercolor or an oil. A trio of them flaunted pink ribbons on their formalwear, and one even held a magnifying lens. Probably the judges. Behind them, a canine, beige-colored creature whose brushy tail was tinted green followed earnestly. It seemed to be the pokémon world's version of a painter.

His attention was suddenly seized by a stunning combination of colors: reds, pinks, oranges, blues, and violets. He found himself drawn to the painting to his right, an acrylic that showed a dusk—or was it dawn?—sky with the buildings of Ebony Town in the foreground. Aside from the wispy clouds that swirled and reached for the horizon, grassland pokémon such as Pidgey, Ledian, and Hoppip dotted the colorful expanse. Guido stared at the vibrancy of the colors, which seemed to leap out towards him to envelope him in a world far from the vindictive vagaries of life. He became lost to time.

"Redspike? Are you Redspike?"

Guido blinked and nearly dropped the black case he was holding. He turned around and came face to face with one of the event organizers, a curly-haired brunette wearing a black, lacy dress. "You're on to play in ten more minutes. Better get to the podium." Without bothering to wait for a reply, she scurried off to join the judges.

[We are here to make music, after all,] Kricketune said. But that didn't stop it from shooting the retreating form of the event organizer a frown.

Guido sighed. He took a final glance at the acrylic then looked for the name of the painter—

Skye Andies?

He searched for the title…

"Ebony Dawn and Dusk."

He stared at the name. Then at the painting. A twinge of guilt stabbed his chest. Again, he felt a presence stroke his mind.

"Time to play, Redspike," another event organizer told him. The man saw his gaze and remarked, "So you like that painting, too, huh? You're not the only one. There's something about it… like, the guy who made it sees all the brightness and possibilities that life can offer... I can't help smiling whenever I pass by this one."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" said Guido softly, his eyes fastened to the canvas. Was it ever a surprise that Skye could produce something so uplifting?

"The judging's started," the organizer said. "Better get on that podium."

Guido nodded. Unfortunately, when he tore his gaze from the acrylic, all his doubts and fears returned.

- x x x -

The three stepped out of the restroom, with Ledian flapping behind them.

"You almost plunked me into the toilet, Birdbrain."

"I'm sorry! I thought that was where the janitor kept the mops and pails!"

Dad ran a hand over his hair and smoothened his brown jacket. "Next time I want to go somewhere on the island, remind me to bring you along. This method of traveling is so convenient!"

Skye laughed, which released a little of his nervousness. He peered around and was slightly overwhelmed by the arrayed rows of bookshelves. Ledian suddenly fluttered forward, and the other three wasted no time in following. With their footfalls echoing throughout the library, they emerged into an atrium-like space, which had been converted by dividers into a gallery. In front of this makeshift art exhibit lay tall, slender tables where waiters served finger food such as asparagus bacon wraps and fried spring rolls. Soft violin music, which probably came from inside the gallery, wafted around the wide space. Recognizing the table in the opposite wall to be the registration booth, Skye led the others there, introduced himself to the organizer manning it, and asked him if the judging had already finished.

"Pin this ribbon on," the organizer told him. "The evaluations are done, but the judges are going around interviewing some of the participants. I suggest that you stay by your work so the judges, and anyone else who's interested in your painting, for that matter, will know where to find you."

"Paintings, huh…" he heard Wade murmur contemplatively.

As soon as Skye pinned the ribbon on the front pocket of his button-up, a plump, short-haired lady who had been conversing with the guards behind the table caught sight of his registration number and asked with wide eyes, "You're number seven? Skye Andies?"

He blinked. "Ah… yes, Ma'am."

She set her glass of pineapple punch down and peered at his companions. Skye's breath caught as he saw the pink ribbon on her black blouse. A judge! He wanted to faint. "Your family?" At his feeble nod, her beak-like mouth curved into a genial smile. "Let's go peruse your painting, shall we? I'm Mrs. Carolyn Vladi, one of the judges of the Colors Contest."

"I'm his father," said Mr. Andies, extending his hand. "Allison Andies. This is Wade, my… uh…"

"He's my kid bro," Skye filled. He saw Dad's eyebrow twitch and his eyes smile. Said kid bro in question, though, just gazed stonily back at the plump judge. Wade's combination of formalwear, flat expression, and the silver huggy earrings on his right ear probably made Mrs. Vladi think that he was his bodyguard. Skye swallowed and led the judge to his humble niche in the gallery.

As they walked, Skye snuck glimpses of the other artworks. He saw a watercolor, its colors more subtle than an acrylic or oil, of a forest scene with streaks of sunlight filtering through the leafy branches and throwing shadows on the tree trunks. There were also numerous still-lifes of vases with ornamental flowers, pokémon dolls and other assorted toys, and even a banquet. Portraits, both of the realistic and of the avant-garde types, stared at viewers with unnerving gazes. In one corner Skye spotted a few pieces of abstract art, such as a crisscrossing of straight black lines entitled, "The Sandshrew House," and a collection of circles and spirals in different colors and sizes called, "Spinda Tango." His attention didn't stay long at those; after all, too much art analysis of things that didn't seem to have sense made his head ache.

At last, the five arrived at Skye's little slot in the gallery. A pair of chairs and a slender table with a bottle of water on top had been positioned near the painting. For the frame, he had chosen a simple lacquered wooden one with minimal sculpture so as not to distract the viewer's attention from the artwork. As for the painting itself… His eyes took in the vibrant colors he had painted on that canvas some months ago.

The sky. It held hidden potential, harbored untold promises. It seemed to stretch forever, with the horizon being a poor border to the ground, or to the ocean, whichever one it felt like rendezvousing with. One could never doubt its presence; even roofs of leaves or cement could not hide its existence. Ever changing, like a lady trying on different gowns. He loved its vastness, its mercurial nature, and its dependability. Which was why every chance he got, he'd go to that special spot on top of that building and engage in a private pastime that, by some freaky turn of events, was no longer secret.

"The strength of your work," Mrs. Vladi began, "is in the brightness of your colors. Despite the straight lines of your buildings in the foreground, there remains conspicuous movement, which is conveyed by the swirling of the clouds. The combination of these, the vibrant hues and the pleasing direction that your clouds direct the viewer's eyes to, elicits a stirring response from anyone who manages to catch a glimpse." At her words, Ledian nodded vigorously. Skye, still trying to wrestle with the fact that a judge was discussing his work with him, could only offer a weak smile.

"I'll admit, though, that I do not focus much on technique. I tend to concentrate on the emotional response that a work of art inspires. Perhaps this is the reason why there are three of us judges, so we can balance out each other's preferences. Do humor me by answering this question: Do you have any other works?"

"Y… Yes, Ma'am."

Mrs. Vladi nodded with a tiny smile whose meaning was something only she seemed to know. "Well. I'll be off, then. I have more participants to interview. Unfortunately, as much as I'd like to spend more time with every painter, we only have a total of thirty minutes to make our rounds. Have a good evening, Skye." She nodded at Dad and Wade before striding off.

Skye released a long breath before sagging on one of the chairs.

[Quit being such a wuss,] said Ledian, amused. [You should be a lot more energetic considering that your Dad and Wade are here cheering you on.]

Upon glancing at the other two, Skye nearly wanted to slam his head on the table. Dad was on his phone speaking with one of the pokémart aides about dinner, while Wade was squinting at the painting as if he had spotted a squashed bug on it. Ledian, at least, had the dignity to look abashed.

"I get the vibrant colors part," said Wade suddenly, still peering at the canvas through narrowed violet eyes. "But what was that talk about movement? How can clouds tell me where to look? You mean to say that the clouds tell me what to feel?"

What to do to zip that mouth... Skye spotted a waiter carrying a tray of bite-sized slices of strawberry cheesecake. He snatched one and waved it in front of Wade, who quickly shut up and stared at the thing, mesmerized.

"Well," Dad said as he snapped his mobile phone shut and pocketed it. "I'd really like to see your other paintings, son. Doesn't matter to me if you win or lose; just the fact that you can paint these gorgeous, uplifting landscapes is enough reason for me to be proud." He took a closer look at it. "'Ebony Dawn and Dusk,' huh? You're right; I can't tell if it _is_ sunrise or sunset. When did you make this one? Oh, there it is, right there beside your signature. Just a few months ago, huh?"

His cheeks on fire, Skye nodded before looking away. But that didn't stop his dad from asking, "So… you guys want to have dinner together after all this?"

But before Skye could answer, Wade interrupted with a sleepy, "I'm going to look for more strawberry cheesecakes…" Then he walked off. Worried that he might crash into a painting and get his head yelled off—which would start a yelling war, of course—Skye nodded his reply to his father before saying, "I think I'll go with Wade for a while. He looks really tired and—"

"I wonder whose fault that is," Wade muttered. The brown-haired youth shot him a scowl that, unfortunately for Skye, still got him shaking no matter how many times he had received it in the past. "The next time you plan to enter me into a competition, make sure that I know about it, because if you do that stunt again I'm going to feed you to Gyarados!"

"You won't have to since it won all that pokéchow," Skye said as a grin emerged on his face. "I mean, c'mon, you got first place! You're the swimming champ! You beat those arrogant jerks who thought that they could take over the island with their puny pokémon—"

A hand clasped his shoulder. Skye looked up to his father, who looked like he was practicing great patience with a very naughty brat.

"May I know what race this is?" he asked softly.

Wade stared at Dad for a moment before blushing and looking away. There was a hand clasped on his shoulder, too. "… The Swimmer's Cup," he mumbled.

"And… why didn't you tell me that Wade was in a competition?"

Skye gulped. The look on Dad's face promised punishment later. "Ah…" He felt a laugh worm its way out of his throat. "It was a surprise. Even Wade didn't know until the last minute. But Dad, he won first! With his Gyarados towing him through those waves and the other participants trying to slug him, he still turned out the champ!"

Dad regarded Wade, who had turned redder than Ledian. "I would have given everything to watch that."

For some reason, Wade turned wide eyes at him. Fortunately before things could get any more discomfiting, the same waiter with the small cheesecake slices passed by, giving Skye ample chance to snatch one and hand it to Wade, who predictably got mesmerized by it.

"We'll check out the other paintings," Skye said in a rush as he steered Wade away. The younger boy was still ogling the treat in his hand. "Ledian, would you mind staying around? Thanks."

"And I think I'll help myself to those spring rolls," Dad said as he stalked after one of the waiters. "I'll be back here once I get a couple."

Taking advantage of Wade's distraction with the cake, Skye slung an arm over the other's shoulder. The two breezed through the other paintings, but stayed longer at a couple which snatched Skye's breath away: one an oil of five Ralts dancing like innocent children to a nameless tune, another an acrylic of a lunging Zangoose that looked like it could leap out the canvas any moment. He was about to move Wade into the next painting when the younger boy suddenly stopped.

The violin music was louder now, and this time, it interwove with a new sound. Wondering what Wade was gawking at, he followed the other's gaze and found a sight that widened his eyes.

Standing on a podium just a few feet away from them was Guido, his eyes closed, his chin and shoulder cradling a battered-looking violin. The bow moved across the strings to draw out a slow melody that Skye wouldn't mind listening to as background music in a wedding. Beside him, a small, red bug with antennae that resembled its blade-like extremities sang a song in its language that seemed to lace itself into Guido's music, making a blend that was joyous to the ears. And… was that a moustache? Skye didn't know what to make of it.

Suddenly Guido's eyes opened and focused on the two of them. His melody suddenly shifted into a _ritardando_, as if considering what to make of them. Then, like a rollercoaster swooping down from the first peak, the music moved rapidly, the notes short and urgent, and a brooding, dark song rose from his violin. The bug pokémon wove its own melody into something just as sinister. Skye shivered.

After what seemed an eternity of spiraling darkness, the song ended. As the five or six people who were watching Guido applauded, an event organizer tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. He nodded, then stepped down the podium. With his hand clamped firmly on Wade's arm, Skye approached the skinny sixteen-year old and gave him a grin. Guido regarded him quietly.

"I didn't know you were into violins," Skye said. "That was brilliant! That last song was intense. You were really in synch with your pokémon… Whatever it is."

"It's my Kricketune. And thanks. I didn't know you were into painting."

Skye eyed the instrument. "That thing has a really rich sound for an old violin. I can understand why you'd want to keep it. Ever considered having it repaired?"

Guido shrugged then started to walk off. "I'll just get something to eat."

"Wade and I'll follow you once we finish looking at the other paintings," Skye said. He looked at the younger boy and found him staring at Guido. Though whether it was in surprise at the revelation of his musical talent or the fact that he was wearing more formal clothes—and not those dilapidated slippers!—remained uncertain to Skye. "We'll see you!"

When Guido had disappeared behind one of the dividers, Wade suddenly asked, "He's not… sick or something, is he?"

Skye frowned. That wasn't the first time Wade had asked something like that, now was it? "Why do you ask? I mean, sure, he looks a bit malnourished, but other than that…"

Wade still had that pondering look when they moved to the next paintings.

By the time they were done roving around the gallery, Skye was hungry. He hauled Wade back to their spot, which was fortunately beside the area where the waiters served finger food. He found his dad and Ledian sharing a plateful of them: some spring rolls, deviled eggs, and mini-tacos. Snatching a couple of spring rolls, he took a seat and tried to see if Guido was anywhere nearby. On his fourth one, he suddenly realized that Wade had not eaten a single thing yet; in fact, he seemed spaced out. Skye offered the plate of spring rolls to him.

"Get something in that stomach."

"The mini-tacos are good," Dad added.

"Here," Skye said as he handed a spring roll to him. Wade blinked blankly at it.

"I think I'll get a drink," he mumbled then nearly tottered away from the table.

_He really looks exhausted,_ Skye thought worriedly. He voiced this out to his father, who agreed that it was probably best that he accompanied him. Munching on a mini-taco and grabbing one last deviled egg, he left the table.

He found him near the entrance of the gallery, beside a table with plates full of crumbs and empty punch glasses. Again, he was staring off in the distance. When Skye followed his gaze, he saw Guido talking to one of the guards stationed beside a steel combination safe, which was right behind the registration booth. Guido then wandered off, but not before briefly brushing his fingers over the dull-colored surface.

_Wonder what that was about,_ Skye thought idly.

- x x x -

After handing his violin case to the man in the brown bandanna, Guido approached one of the guards beside the steel safe.

"Excuse me, sir. Do you know where the restroom is?"

"Go past the entrance to the gallery," he answered, "then turn left. You'll see the sign straight ahead. Or, you can go into that doorway,"—he pointed at a wide entryway a few feet from where he was standing—"and turn right."

"Thank you, sir. Guess it must be a relief to know that the contest's almost over."

The guard only answered with a tight smile. Guido lightly swept his fingers over the cold, unyielding surface. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wade pluck a glass of punch from a waiter a few feet away from him, then gaze in his direction. He resisted the urge to jerk his hand back. With a final nod at the guard he walked into the doorway that had been pointed out earlier.

That single touch had revealed to him that his goal was indeed inside the safe. He'd simply have to act during the announcement of winners, when everyone would be gathered at the awarding ceremony deep within the dividers of the gallery.

Though… he wasn't exactly sure what to make of Wade seeing him. For some reason he made him nervous. Unfortunately, if he wanted to ensure his father's wellbeing, he'd have to get over that anxiety fast before it could get in the way of his plans.

The invisible hand caressed his mind. He fell against the wall, his breathing ragged. Thank goodness there was no one around in this hallway. He hauled himself into the restroom and faced the mirror. He really had grown scrawny.

[Are you alright, Guido?] Kricketune asked.

[What's happening there?] Ledian barked.

[I'm fine.]

Ignoring the concerned queries from his other pokémon, Guido turned the faucet on and washed his face. He hoped that Daith had picked up that there was something wrong. Because if not…

He trembled. Then the hand stroked his mind again.

- x x x -

"Everyone, your attention please," an amplified female voice said over speakers. Skye's ears perked up. "The organizers of the Colors Contest would like to thank all the participants, art lovers, friends, family, and pokémon who took the time to attend this event. May we now ask everyone to gather around the podium for the announcement of the winners."

"Better get going," Wade muttered.

The two picked up Dad and Ledian before heading to the designated place. An almost impenetrable sea of people had already gathered, so the four of them were forced to crane their necks in the back. From the little that Skye could see, the three judges were standing near the podium beside a wooden table with three sizeable bronze trophies sporting paint brushes on top. He spotted a familiar stocky man, probably in his forties, who was speaking amiably to Mrs. Vladi.

"That's Mr. Nachmanoff," he told his father, who tiptoed to get a better view. "He took care of my registration and papers."

Before the announcement of the winners, each contestant was given a certificate of participation. When Skye's name was called, he froze on the spot, and it was only after Wade's forceful shove that he got around to receiving his own certificate.

The head judge, an old man with wispy tufts of hair on his head and a pink ribbon in front of his black suit, then proceeded to announce the winners. Though he really wasn't expecting to place, Skye still held on to a glimmering sliver of hope that a miracle would happen. Hadn't Mrs. Vladi been interested in his works, after all? Or was he being too arrogant, hoping to win despite being a newbie in the contest field?

His breath hitched. The third placer was announced. Not him. His hand formed a fist before he could stop it. He unclenched it and took a deep breath.

Second place. Again, not him. He knew enough to stop dreaming and simply sighed. After all, the chances of him being champion was one in a million.

And he was right. As the first placer jogged to the podium amidst applause and a few gracious cheers, Skye felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his father's proud smile, which was a balm to his disappointment. He snuck a look at Wade, who didn't seem to care who won. But Skye wondered why he was frowning.

[Those judges are blind,] Ledian just said flatly.

Skye laughed, and was glad that he was able to. [Let it go, Ledian. I'm fine with the fact that my painting got into the Colors Contest.]

"Let's go back and see if we can pick up a few more mini-tacos before going out for dinner," Dad suggested. "By the way, do you mind if we hang 'Ebony Dawn and Dusk' somewhere in the pokémart? I have just the spot for it."

"No prob, Dad."

Once they got back to his table, Wade suddenly stood in front of the painting with hands on hips and glared at it.

"Why didn't you place?" he asked the painting heatedly. "That plump lady said that you could evoke a good emotional response. So why didn't you get at least a third? If the organizers bungled up the tallies, scores, or whatever they used to judge this phony contest, then there was no point holding it in the first place, was there? What if you were supposed to be third, or maybe even second? What morons."

Skye blinked, not sure how to answer to that. He wouldn't be surprised if Dad was in the same quandary. But that didn't stop a wonderful warmth from spreading from his toes to his cheeks. Who needed a trophy when this was far more priceless? He found himself chuckling and slinging an arm around the other boy's neck. Unsurprisingly, Wade shrugged it off with a scowl.

"What's with you? You're being more clingy than usual."

"I think you're just hungry."

"Go kiss a Qwilfish."

"I'll see if we can get one at the Fair," Dad suddenly said. When Skye turned around, he saw him grinning. "What's gotten into you boys?"

"He started it," Wade quickly said.

Dad laughed. He fixed Skye and Wade each a thoughtful look, sighed, then said, "Seeing you boys like this, I don't think I'd feel right keeping you cooped up in the pokémart tomorrow." He placed a hand on each boy's shoulder. "Why don't you guys take the whole day off?"

"Huh? But what about—"

"Sir, we can't do that—"

The deluge stopped at Dad's raised hand. "I insist. Kids like you should be enjoying the Pokémon Fair. Besides, Bobby and Thomas have mentioned that they wouldn't mind spending more time at work, so I can always get them for tomorrow."

Skye was dumbfounded. What was Dad thinking?

"Are… are you sure, Sir?" Wade almost whispered. Quivering, he had his head down, his eyes covered by his hair. Skye's eyes widened. "Is it because we… we did something wrong?"

_Oh, Wade…_ Not sure how to react, Skye reached out to the other boy with a hand…

But Dad got to him first. "No, silly. Don't worry about it. I just want you two to enjoy yourselves tomorrow—"

A scream pierced the air. Skye whirled around and swiftly scanned the place. Around them people were just as frozen, and one guy had even released a pokémon—an orange puppy with black stripes, a Growlithe—just in case. Skye inched towards his father. From the corner of his eye he saw Wade do the same.

Mrs. Vladi then came scuttling from outside the gallery. She heaved deep breaths before squeaking out her next words.

"The safe! Someone stole it! The thief had his hand on it, and then they just vanished!"


	19. Chapter 18

Author's Notes_  
This was supposed to have a second part, but I figured that this second part deserves to stand on its own as a separate chapter. Especially since it has something to do with giving more background to one of the characters. Because of this, I already have three pages into Chapter 19. Happiness!_

_I had fun writing this chappie. For two reasons, which you guys might discover as you read through it. :D_

_I'm starting a new job next week! So that makes two for February. Pretty exciting. But I'll make sure to still have time for this ficcie. -gets patted on the head by his muse-_

_I don't own Pokémon. Pokémon owns me. Oh, wait, I've done that already. Must find new tagline. xD_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 18**

No one had been allowed to leave the premises.

Wade scowled. So much for dinner. Hunger and sleepiness were never a good combination for him. At least the finger food had temporarily taken care of the former. As for the latter, he had considered taking a nap on the chair, but his drowsiness had understandably fled.

"Do you think this is the work of a psychic who can teleport?" Mr. Andies murmured to Skye, who was chewing on a spring roll.

The blonde stared at his painting a long time before answering. On his lap sat a motionless Ledian, which to all appearances was an adorable plushie. "Who knows…"

Wade directed a sharp glare at the other, but Skye didn't seem to notice.

"The guards have been put to sleep," Mr. Andies went on softly. "Sleep Powder. Whoever did this had a Grass or Bug pokémon as an accomplice."

Skye's hand reached into his pocket. Making sure that his father couldn't see, he brought out the same photograph that Officer Malone had given them a while ago at the Swimmer's Cup and glanced at it from the corner of his eye. Wade didn't need to get a glimpse to know what was in there: sparkly green powder scattered on the floor, around a pair of unconscious guards.

The thief was the same one who had purloined the prize money in the previous Fair competitions. And from the looks of things, he was in no way connected to the Consable Clan. The problem was, he was someone that Skye considered a friend.

The police arrived a few minutes after. Leading them was Officer Malone, his Geodude plunking behind him like a noisy shadow. They wasted no time. On arriving, a pair of police officers quickly headed for the registration table where the safe used to be to collect samples of the Sleep Powder, while another went straight to Mrs. Vladi since she was the one who had discovered the robbery.

Officer Malone sighted the boys, and his eyebrows arched up. He made to approach them but was coarsely stopped by an indignant squawk.

"What in Kyogre's keister happened here, Kerrick?"

Wade saw Officer Malone's expression suddenly go flat. A boorish clunking echoed throughout the library, as if a drunk Ponyta were traversing the hallways. Officer Malone's eyes narrowed. With a turn of his heel he faced the source of the footsteps and planted his fists on his hips.

"Took you long enough, Agnes."

"I'm an old lady with arthritis, you unfeeling yob. Get me a chair so I can rest my tush."

Wade stared. It was a chubby punk grandma! Whoever this Agnes was, she didn't mind being seen in public with a knitted white bonnet, black round earrings, a brown leather jacket with sleeves so long that her fingers were covered, a maroon skirt, and black leather boots. Her walking cane was no simple wooden thing, but a black, varnished monstrosity with the top sculpted into a laughing face and the rest of the body sporting four pokéballs lined up neatly on one side. It was probably the one at fault for producing that racket. She plucked the top pokéball and released the pokémon inside: an avian green creature that had weird markings and a calm that starkly contrasted with its trainer's crustiness. Wade took a moment to recognize what it was: a Xatu.

"Just don't get in the way of my boys," Officer Malone said with a frown.

"I wouldn't be here if you yourself hadn't called," she grumped. "Something about a safe disappearing with the guy who snitched the thing. I tell you, the whole set-up screams psychic. Maybe it's you mundane zanies who shouldn't get in the way of my sleuthing."

"Weirdo," Wade muttered. Skye simply observed the scene with an amused grin. Not knowing what to make of the eccentric newcomer, Mr. Andies just scratched his head and downed another glass of punch.

Participants, organizers, waiters, and guests alike were interviewed. Though distraught and bewildered, the three winners huddled in a corner with two policemen to divulge everything they knew. Mrs. Vladi, still in a hiccupping hysteria, needed two full glasses of punch before she could be coherent enough to answer questions.

Wade glanced at Skye from the corner of his eyes. The long-haired youth still had that impassive face, as if he were peering into an aquarium with some academic interest. In his unmoving arms was Ledian, which still hadn't uttered a sound. Wade wondered if he had the guts to ask the other about the probable culprit.

A shadow suddenly loomed before him. Dread gripped his stomach in an icy fist. Devoured by an acute sense of impending doom, he looked up and was faced with the formidable scrutiny of the punk grandma. Her breath smelled of garlic and some other spice that Wade couldn't identify. He wouldn't be surprised if his face had turned green.

"What do you know about the thefts, son of a thief?" she whispered.

Wade stumbled back and fell into Skye, crushing Ledian under him. "What… What?"

She then donned an amiable smile and said in her most motherly voice, "I'm Agnes Bittlebee, an elderly doll who sometimes plays good Samaritan for the police. Are you the boy's father?" She suddenly clasped Mr. Andies's hand. "Oh, but goodness me, it's not my place to mention if he was adopted, now is it?" She gave an abashed giggle. "Please excuse lil' old Agnes."

_I'll feed you to Gyarados,_ Wade thought vehemently. He nearly projected the statement like a missile into the crone's mind but was luckily able to restrain himself. Gritting his teeth, he shoved himself from Skye and glared at the hag.

"I believe you must be psychic?" Mr. Andies asked cordially, as if he were talking about the weather and not some freaky old lady who could tell him what he ate for breakfast at a mere glance.

"That's what some say," Agnes replied with a cackle. "Would you like to meet my birdie? Briarby—that's my Xatu—can be so quiet sometimes that I occasionally forget she's there."

Not wanting any more contact with the weird witch, Wade shoved Skye towards the bird and muttered, "He likes Flying pokémon. Go say hi, Skye."

"Do you specialize in clairvoyance?" asked Mr. Andies, his eyes gleaming with interest. If they weren't careful he'd launch into another of his scholarly discussions. "Can you perhaps make objects float?"

"Oh poppycock," Agnes replied with a derisive snort. "Telekinesis? Regirock's rump, that's nothing but a load of bunkum. I may be psychic, but never in my life have I actually seen a telekinetic at work. Most of those bozos are charlatans, with their Kadabra doing most of the levitating or, good heavens, a tangle of invisible strings."

This from a lady who claimed she was clairvoyant. The whole thing chafed Wade and made him want to levitate a table at her.

[Temper, temper,] Umbreon said cheekily.

"So, do you know anything about all this tomfoolery?" Agnes asked as she whapped Wade's leg with her cane. He was about to bite her head off when Skye clutched his forearm.

"I'm afraid we don't," Skye answered quietly. Taken aback at the other's reply, Wade bit his tongue to avoid shooting the other an incredulous stare. "The whole thing's a mystery for all of us."

"Really, now?" Agnes's nose was a few millimeters from Wade's own. That breath was excruciatingly unbearable. Why did she have to push her face into his own when it was Skye she was talking to? "No acquaintances that happen to have an Oddish or a Butterfree? No weird friends who happen to keep vials of Sleep Powder that they got from some eerie merchant? Eh?"

"I suppose that if my son says that there are none," Mr. Andies started mildly, "then it might be more productive to pursue another avenue of investigation?"

"How about you, Mr. Moody?" Agnes asked without missing a beat. Wade's eyebrow twitched. "Think you can get that stick out of your fanny so you can answer my question?"

Wade quivered. "Go kiss a Qwilfish, you crone!"

Agnes's eyes widened. Then, she slapped her lap and cackled. Wade's jaw dropped. "Ooh, that's a good one, you urchin. A Qwilfish, indeed. But don't you know? The little prickly-fishes can't use Sleep Powder." She snorted and arched a derogatory eyebrow at him. "Someone needs to go check his pokédex."

Fuming enough to broil meat, Wade almost launched himself at her with claws out, but she suddenly tapped her cane on the floor—giving him the impressing that she was going to thump the thing on his head!—and said, "So, you youngsters really have no idea? Well, that's a shame. I had a strong hunch that approaching you lads would give a little light on this matter, but it appears that I was off beam." Agnes sighed melodramatically and turned around.

"This isn't turning out as painless as I hoped it would be," she muttered under her breath, but Wade still heard. "There's always a risk when you dig deeper into a nest. Who knows what's going to bite?" Her voice regained strength in her next words. "These boys and their father can go home, now, Kerrick. They're good people and as innocent as newborn Natu."

At Agnes's call, Officer Malone stopped his conversation with one of his subordinates and approached them. "I do believe that's for us to decide," he grumbled as the chubby punk grandma with the killer cane waddled off to cross-examine another victim. Quiet and expressionless, her Xatu flapped after her. "Really… She's an official police psychic, but she's too old for this kind of stuff! Besides, you never really know if she's simply making up things or is just a lucky guesser."

_I don't care if she's guessing or not, _Wade thought as he observed Agnes's retreating form. The hag had the gall to just walk off after harassing them!_ I still want her dead!_

"How long has she been at this line of work?" asked Mr. Andies, rubbing his chin.

"Quite a while. Three, maybe four years? She came from the Hoenn region and made a name for herself there when she helped locate the body of an office worker from Mauville. The poor girl's family had been looking for her for months. Then old Agnes came along and held the victim's suitcase, and out came the whereabouts: somewhere in Mt. Chimney. From that point on she got quite in demand, though she turned down a lot of job offers because she claimed she didn't like all the gory stuff."

"Why didn't she stay in Hoenn, then?" Wade muttered.

"Beats me," Officer Malone answered. "One of my boys asked her once, and he spent the next hour suffering through her life story and how she nearly got married to some rich businessman so many years ago. Of course, it was difficult to try weaseling out of it with a black stick of doom looming over his head."

"She should be arrested for possession of a dangerous weapon," Wade groused.

"Anyway." Officer Malone snatched a deviled egg from the plate on the table and popped it unconcernedly in his mouth. "Same modus operandi, huh? Sleep Powder. But the disappearing safe adds a new light to this whole case. It means we're dealing with a psychic, so I had to call Agnes in. You boys wouldn't happen to know any psychics who have pokémon with Sleep Powder, now would you?"

Wade kept silent and pretended to finish his punch. _Are you really going to lie again, Skye? _It was an effort to keep the glass from shaking in his hand.

"I'm afraid not, Officer," Skye answered with a frown. "Nico has a Cubone, Golbat, and a newly acquired Weedle, while his girlfriend-to-be has a Raticate and a Pidgeotto. Nothing even remotely near a pokémon with Sleep Powder."

Wade's mouth tightened.

"Hmm…" Officer Malone popped another deviled egg into his mouth and munched on it pensively. "Oh, by the way, I hope you'll indulge my curiosity, but would you mind telling me what you guys are doing here? Didn't I just see you a while ago at the Swimmer's Cup?"

"Have you seen my son's painting?" Mr. Andies gushed as he shoved Officer Malone onto the spot right in front of "Ebony Dawn and Dusk." "It didn't win, but doesn't it make you feel better just looking at it?"

"Oh Dad, don't." With his hands on his cheeks, Skye blushed like a maiden. "You're embarrassing me."

Wade flatly observed the three idiots. Four, including Ledian, which began fluttering about and waving its arms excitedly. Like father, like son, indeed. Wondering if they could go home now, he took one of the vacant chairs and plopped his head on the table. If he was lucky he'd be asleep in less than a minute. Unfortunately, as he prepared to enter blissful slumber, he overheard one of the event organizers ask a question that roused him back to crabby wakefulness.

"Where's the violinist?"

"Oh, you mean Redspike?" another organizer said. "He left early. Don't tell me you think it's him?"

"He left early, huh? I guess that removes him from the list of suspects."

_That's what you think_, Wade thought darkly.

To tell the truth, he wasn't sure what to feel knowing that the Consable Clan wasn't involved in any of the heists. But to have the thief be someone he just met, and with Skye protecting him… His gut clenched uncomfortably.

"I suppose we should decongest this place," Officer Malone mumbled with a sigh. "Allison, you and the boys know how to contact me, so if you find anything, drop me a call, alright? Even if it's information that doesn't seem connected at all. I'd like to wrap this up before the Pokémon Fair finishes. Good evening to all of you."

Once Officer Malone was far enough, Wade occupied himself with finishing the rest of the finger food left on their plates. He sneaked a glance at Skye, who was removing his painting from the wall with the help of his father.

[Why?] he asked him coldly. But the blonde didn't answer; he didn't even look at him. Wade hardened his resolve and plowed on. [The police have no chance with a psychic, let alone a wielder.] Still acting deaf, Skye recalled Ledian back into its pokéball. An event organizer noticed that they were about to leave and handed them some cheap, grainy paper to wrap the painting with.

Wade's hand clenched. Still no answer. Fine. If he didn't want to discuss it, he'd push the issue later. Besides, now that he realized it, he didn't feel like pursuing the argument before dinner.

"Oh, are you about to leave?"

Startled, Wade saw Mrs. Vladi scurrying toward them. She approached Skye and handed him her card, which he took timidly. "Contact me, at the very least once the Fair's over. I have connections with art galleries that I'm sure would be interested in exhibiting your works."

As Mr. Andies beamed excitedly beside his son, Skye blushed and suddenly found something interesting in his feet. "Oh… uh… alright. And thank you."

"This has been a terrible ordeal for the Colors Contest," Mrs. Vladi said quietly. "Who would do such a thing?" At this question Wade's eyes hardened, but he kept silent. "Amidst all this madness, the least we can do is to try to find some semblance of sanity. And I do believe that there's such a refuge in your works. Don't forget to call, now. I'll be expecting it." She left with a pat on Skye's shoulder.

"Anyone up for dinner?" Mr. Andies asked, a bit too cheerfully. "I know I am."

Skye pumped his fist into the air. "Let's eat! I'm starving!" The smile on his face felt all too phony. Wade seriously wanted to wipe it off.

With Skye's painting in his arms, the three left the gallery and headed for the exit of the library, their heels clopping against the floor. On the way Wade glanced at the registration table and spotted a few glittering green specks on the floor. He took a look at the guards who had been put to sleep. Seated on a couple of chairs, the two were awake now and were being attended to by a trio of medical personnel.

When Wade, Skye, and Mr. Andies neared the bookshelves, they saw Agnes pestering a man wearing a beige jacket and checkered trousers. She looked up as they passed and shot Wade a toothy grin. Beside her, Briarby the Xatu regarded him blankly. Not wanting to be the object of her creepy attentions again, Wade hastened his footsteps.

For dinner, Mr. Andies chose a restaurant that was near the pokémart. The three sat around one of the square wooden tables of the Pizza and the Ponyta—"Hot and speedy," the tagline went. They ordered a pizza big enough to satisfy a Snorlax.

"So, what plans do you have for tomorrow?" Mr. Andies asked in between bites. "If I'm not mistaken there's a pokémon tournament in the morning."

"I saw that in one of the pamphlets," Skye said. "It's the Beam Tournament. Too late to join now, though, since registration ended a week ago. I hear the number of applicants has reached a new high: two hundred."

"I'm sure watching the matches will be just as fun as participating. The other option is to go shopping."

"What do you think, Wade?"

"Don't bother me. Can't you see I'm eating?" Without pause in his meal, Wade grabbed another slice and shoveled it into his mouth. He heard Mr. Andies suddenly chuckle and didn't understand what was so funny. Not that he cared; after all, he was too occupied with wiping the mozzarella dripping from his lips. "Do they have cakes here?"

"Uh…" Skye peered at the menu. "Chocolate?"

"That's fine with me."

One whole pizza and three slices of chocolate cake later, they paid their tab and headed home. The chaos that met them as they entered the pokémart was no longer a surprise. Angeline was busy mopping what seemed to be spilled coffee, and Wade had no idea how it got on the floor in the first place. Lilibeth's fingers flew on the cash register as if in a tap dance performance. Spotting Bobby and Thomas in between the shelves, Wade was about to ask what they were doing when a kid bulldozed into his legs and nearly made him fall. Not bothering to offer an apology, the five-year old boy dashed into another aisle and was immediately caught by his annoyed mother.

It was two hours before closing time. Wade and Skye decided to help—or rather, Skye volunteered their services despite Wade's sleepy and exhausted protest. He gave in after a resigned sigh. Fortunately, time elapsed faster than he realized, especially since he didn't have to mind the cash register on an empty stomach.

Once the store had been closed, the place mopped clean, and the accounting finished, Wade dragged himself up the stairs and collapsed in his bed. Carrying his wrapped painting, Skye followed in a sprightly stride.

"Good night, you two," Mr. Andies said from the doorway.

His face buried in his pillow, Wade waited for Mr. Andies's bedroom door to close before asking, [Why did you lie, Skye?]

He didn't answer.

[You think you're going to help things by denying everything? Like I said before, the police have only a slim chance of catching a wielder. They'll need all the help they can—]

"Why are you so dead-set that it's him?"

Was Wade imagining it, or had Skye's voice suddenly gained a steely edge? Suddenly unsure, he blurted out the reasons that he thought were obvious. [The Sleep Powder was a dead giveaway. All the guards in the past competitions have been put to sleep. I mean, sure, it could have been any idiot who has a pokémon with that particular Grass technique, but the description of the thief and how the safe disappeared at the Colors Contest all point to him. If you want to look for a motive… well, he's not that well off, and his father has a medical condition that he might like to—]

"You're just glad that the Consable Clan's not involved. It must be a lot easier to find a scapegoat knowing that, huh?."

Something seared his chest. He cast a glare at Skye and snarled, "What's the matter with you? Playing blind just because he's your friend? What kind of brain-damaged reasoning is that?"

"It just means that I have a lot more faith in people," Skye gnarled back, "unlike someone I know who doesn't do anything else but dwell on the past! So now you can't see anything beyond that cloud of gloom, now can you? That's just pathetic!"

Wade's eyes flashed. The room hummed with an unseen power. "Take that back!"

Skye's own eyes glowed. The blankets, bed sheets, and pillow cases flapped and thrashed. A few more moments like this and the pokémart might suddenly find itself missing a second floor.

[Wade,] called Umbreon, alarmed. [What's happening?]

[Don't do this!] Slowbro pleaded.

[Wade, you're going to hurt yourself!] Slowking pointed out frantically. [Skye, too!]

… _Going… to hurt… Skye…_

Wade drew in a ragged breath. He let go of the telekinetic force he was about to launch and slumped back to his pillows, completely drained. Still angry, he glowered at Skye, who dissipated the winds a few seconds after. The blonde then lay down and faced away from him.

[That's what you get for going ballistic, you jerk.]

All Wade could do against that cutting remark was grit his teeth. It was hard to unclench his fists, and after a few attempts he gave up trying.

[Just go to sleep,] Slowbro said soothingly.

[Your body and temper need rest,] Slowking added.

With a little effort, Wade faced the other way and crushed a pillow in his arms. His lower lip shook, but he'd rather get crushed by a rampaging Tyranitar than show any sign of weakness now.

"Is everything alright in there?" Mr. Andies called from behind their door.

"Good night, Dad," answered Skye, barely hiding the strain in his tone. There was no answer.

Still squeezing the life out of the pillow, Wade released a long, shuddering breath.

_Skye… you moron! Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Those were his last thoughts before entering a troubled sleep.

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_How is it? Don't forget to drop a review. :D  
_


	20. Chapter 19

Author's Notes_  
Originally supposed to be the second part of the previous chapter, this chapter was expanded on to give more background to one of the characters in an attempt (note, __**attempt**__, ehehe) to explain his behavior._

_Thanks to CanaryInTheCoalMine for a great idea. Really wish that you had been around earlier. Thank you, too, to those who have been reading and, most especially, to those who tell me what they think about the story. Seriously, feedback helps. :D  
_

_And for those who are wondering if Agnes Bittlebee will make a comeback, don't worry, she will. xD Ain't she a doll?  
_

_I don't own Pokémon. It belongs to a very rich Japanese man and very rich game companies. I'm neither. So there. xD_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 19**

_Who would've thought I'd be back here?_ Daith thought to himself in wonder.

The house seemed… different. True, nothing had changed at all regarding the general architecture, as the house was still a plain old box with some furniture inside. Despite the dark desert night and the lack of illumination, he could see that even the arrangement of the sofa, the small, wooden table in the center of the room, and the reed mat under it had been kept the same.

But somehow… the place no longer felt like home.

[Nothing has changed…] Arbok observed, like an archaeologist marveling at a historic site that had been preserved for ages. The Poison pokémon slithered to the space between the sofa and the wooden table, a spot where it would curl up beside him after a hard day's work all those years ago. But it was no longer the petite Ekans that it used to be, and so it no longer fit. Knowing this seemed to sadden it.

Daith slowly sat down on the sofa and rubbed his palm over the woven surface. He could imagine a six-year old Guido on his lap, kicking his feet and giggling like there was no tomorrow. He'd pop a few berries into his kid brother's mouth, then laugh as Guido asked for more.

[I'd play hide-and-seek with little Guido, even though the house was small and there weren't many places to hide.] Staring into space, Daith absentmindedly stroked Arbok's head and sighed. [Then every night, with a plate of desert figs and cups of cool water, we'd be up on the roofs, counting stars, telling stories, and sometimes sharing the occasional dream of seeing the world.] His mouth tightened. [I got my wish…] That last thought was tinged with an unpleasant taste.

Still leaving the lights off, Daith glided to the kitchen, a cramped space sporting a kiln and a countertop to separate it from the living room. Mother had always been neat with the utensils, so seeing the plates stacked dirtily in the sink and scraps of food lying around was a shock. He quietly gazed at the mess before deciding to wash the dishes. It would be a while before Mother got home, as she'd occasionally be at the oasis at this time, maybe to gather water from the well or to procure more berries. Might as well indulge his nostalgia.

With a great sense of familiarity, Daith poured water from a wooden bucket and into a basin. Here he submerged the grimy utensils and afterwards sponged them with soap. The task was a house chore that he always did, and so his hands moved of their own accord.

His mind continued to relive his past. By this time, Father would be done smoking outside, as it was Mother's strict house rule not to soil the interior with the pungent odor of cigars. For a moment his hands stopped moving, and he looked back at the living room. As if watching a phantasmagoric movie, he saw a six-year old Guido and a fourteen-year old Daith sitting around the wooden table with their parents, Mother a plump lady with her hair done in a bun and Father a lanky man with his sleeveless shirt smudged with dirt and ripped from the berry bushes near the oasis…

- x x x -

"Can I have some fig pie?" Guido asked adorably as he reached for a slice with sparkling wide eyes. Smiling at the boy, Mother held one in front of his mouth so he could bite. At his feet was Ekans, looking at them expectantly and doing an impeccable imitation of a begging pup, complete with wide, moist eyes. Father washed his hands at the sink and scooped his own slice, then brusquely tapped Daith on the shoulder to get his attention. Swallowing, he stopped eating and regarded the man.

"Have you decided what to do with your future, son?" he asked sternly, his breath smelling like burnt berry leaves. "Is it education you're after? Or do you want to go somewhere for a pokémon journey? Neither one is an easy dream to accomplish. Your mother and I can only do so much in helping to fund whatever it is you'll want to do, so you'll have to work on it yourself. There isn't much to go on with jobs here in Ochre, so you'll have to go to Ebony for better opportunities."

"What about Guido?" Daith asked timidly. "He needs someone to take care of him."

"He'll find out soon enough that he can't be taken care of forever," Father replied relentlessly. "I've begun bringing him to the berry patches every morning to help gather enough food to sell. It's also about time that you helped your younger brother catch his own pokémon. Responsibility is always good for children, and that will be a quick way to teach it."

"Something safer to catch," Mother said, "not like the Ekans you happened to befriend. No offense, dear," she immediately told the Poison pokémon, then popped a bit of fig pie into its mouth. "I mean, you never tell us how you managed to catch one—"

"But I did!" Daith protested. "I told you—"

"You heard it talking to you?" Father said gruffly. "How foolish is that? The only pokémon I know who can talk to their trainers are the Psychic types, and from what I recall the only Psychic types on the island are the Natu found in the Dot. No, son, you're too fond of your tall tales, and one day it'll get you in trouble."

"But Ekans did talk to me…"

"Hush," Mother chided with an apprehensive look at Father. "So, what do you think we should catch for Guido?"

"The boy will be there to help catch it, of course," Father added.

Daith looked at his feet. "Maybe one of the oasis pokémon, like Lotad or Poliwag," he muttered. "Though Ekans are off-limits, there're always the other desert pokémon, like Sandshrew and Numel."

"I want a Lotad," Guido piped up.

Father took another bite into his pie before responding. "The moment the boy gets one, we can go to Ebony one of these days to look for a job. Once you've saved enough, you can go on with whatever you want to do in your life. Staying in a desert village is no place for boys like you. The only option is to go out and see the world, either through books or through experience."

- x x x -

His hands resumed washing the dishes.

[Are you alright, Daith?] Arbok asked.

[Why wouldn't I be?] came the quick reply.

After a few moments, the last plate had finally been dried and placed in the cupboard. He walked back to take a seat on the sofa, but his attention was arrested by the doorway that led to the bedroom he and his brother used to share.

He didn't want to go in there. But the doorway beckoned, and his feet moved. With a hand on the stone wall, he peered inside.

It was a small room. He wondered why there were still two reed mats lying on the floor. The other should have been rolled up and propped beside the drawer set in the upper left corner of the room. His hand crawled on the wall for the light switch, but he decided that he was more comfortable in the darkness. Arbok crept into the bedroom and stopped beside the low wooden table on the right-hand wall.

[I don't remember this picture…]

[… What picture?] So much for being comfortable in the dark; looks like he'd need the lights on. After clicking the switch, Daith walked to the table and picked up the photograph. His forehead furrowed.

What was that pokémart boy with the ponytail doing with his younger brother? Were they friends? For a moment his mind went blank.

When his thoughts started moving again, he realized that he was smiling. It was about time that Guido had friends. But now that he thought about it, he never got that pokémart worker's name. He tenderly placed the picture back on the table and turned the light off.

[She'll be home soon,] Daith said broodingly. With Arbok trailing behind him, he took a seat on the sofa and folded one leg over the other. He closed his eyes and tried to think despite his restlessness.

Where was Father? The only time he wasn't at home was during the mornings. And why did the house seem to exhibit signs of neglect? His mother would rather eat rotten figs than overlook any traces of dirt. Now that he thought about it, Guido was also neat around the house, so why?

[This doesn't add up to what I remember, Arbok,] he told the Poison pokémon. He was suddenly aware of his box of cigarettes in his pocket and was tempted to bring it out.

His head jerked towards the window. Senses on alert, he stood up and pressed his back against the wall. From the corner of his eye he saw Arbok crouch low and creep near the entrance.

Hushed voices. Around… three people? Daith's eyes widened. His breath caught as he recognized one of them. Was that his mother's voice? She sounded frightened. The other two voices were tinted with the influence of alcohol.

[The bedroom,] Daith commanded Arbok.

Once there, the front door opened, and the living room light clicked on. Daith slowed down his breathing.

"'Cuz of your son," one of the men rowdily told Mother, "we get the easy life." A hiccup. "Now all we have to do is guard the main headquarters."

"Not so loud," Mother pleaded, her voice shrill. "What if someone hears?"

A snigger. "No one can hear, lady. Your neighbors are way too far for them to eavesdrop. Hey, why not have a party? We're finally going to leave this dratted island so we can do our business in the bigger places, like Kanto, or maybe even Johto! The whole thing's brilliant, and it was all Dennison's idea! Let's celebrate! Geodude, come on out and have some of this ale!"

"Sandshrew, get out here…" the other voice slurred. "That's what the new base at Coast Cave is for, Missus Redspike. It's a holding area for all the stuff that your son's gonna steal for us. But here's the beauty of it all: they're actually building an underground harbor there. Makes a clean getaway a lot easier, dontcha think?"

"Yeah, yeah! Once the Pok'mon Fair's done, we're hightailing it outta here!"

"Where's my son?" Mother asked tremulously. "And my husband?"

"Aren'tcha stupid? 'Course the mister's at the Cave. No one's told you, yet? How lame. Maybe ol' Guido's there, too. He needs to get all the sleep he can, Missus Redspike, for the next big heist tomorrow morning. Hey Geodude, get me a plate from the cupboard. There food in this joint?"

"Wait!" Mother's footsteps suddenly hastened. A crash followed. Daith closed his eyes. He itched to dispose of these unsavory characters, but… he hated this place, didn't he? He had washed his hands off his parents in that event eight years ago.

He wasn't supposed to care.

So why were his fists trembling?

"There's no food here?" one of the men snarled. "Sandshrew, trash this place! What a waste of time!" The sound of shattering glass pierced the night. Mother sobbed.

Something snapped inside him.

[Arbok, destroy them. Crunch them up.]

Wordlessly, the Poison pokémon glided out the bedroom. A satisfying chomp ensued, then a scream. Another crispy munch followed, and then silence.

Daith walked out and observed the mess. Mother, her long skirt torn at the hem, was slumped against the counter with her hands on her face. Fangs bared, Arbok had curled itself protectively in front of her, and it looked ready to kill at a single word from its trainer. Shards of glass glittered on the floor, the remains of an empty ale bottle.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked softly, his voice a bared blade, his eyes more corrosive than acid.

Stark terror shone in the troublemakers' faces. Fumbling with their pokéballs, the two released their remaining pokémon: one another Geodude, the other a Wooper.

"Who the hell are you? Geodude, Magnitude!"

"Wooper, Slam that snake to oblivion!"

"Aqua Tail."

Its rear end gleaming a deadly blue, Arbok swung its hefty tail against the Geodude, which immediately fell. The Wooper landed a hit, but the thing was so weak that it barely left a bruise. Another Aqua Tail ended the battle quickly.

The two goons scrambled for the door, but it closed after a wave from Daith's hand. Cowering in the corner, one pleaded for their lives, while the other threatened that people would look for them.

"Who are you?" Daith asked softly. "You had better answer fast, or I won't have to feed Arbok his pokéchow tonight."

"Are… are you Daith…?"

Mother… He closed his eyes to steady his nerves, then opened them again. "Who are they, and what are they doing here?" The steel in his voice remained sharp.

Ragged breathing. But he refused to look at her. Because if he did… he just might break. "Consable henchmen. Their… their main headquarters are here in Ochre." Her sobbing had stopped, but her voice remained thick. "They've kidnapped Micah. Guido's doing what they want because of that. Are… are you really Daith?"

He rode over her question with his own. "How did they kidnap… him?"

Silence. Then, "Dennison… he's the Clan psychic. He saw… he saw Guido's bloom power. When he thought that no one was watching, he made the desert plants flower even though the house is far from the oasis well. The men entered the house one night while Guido was at Ebony. When… when he came back, Dennison… did something to his mind… I don't know. But because of it, he knows everything that Guido does."

Eyes still glaring at the cringing henchmen, Daith tried to make some sense out of the myriad thoughts roiling in his head.

His parents knew about Guido's powers? Since when? It didn't seem fair if they'd known about it for a long time, now. Did the other villagers know? And, more importantly, were the Elders aware? He didn't want his brother to suffer through the humiliation he had to go through eight years ago.

What did this Dennison character do to his younger brother? Perhaps some kind of psychic monitoring power? He wondered if there were going to be any lasting effects from that kind of mind manipulation. Suddenly, he felt like killing the two henchmen.

[Give me the word,] Arbok said, opening its mouth wider. Its eyes gleamed ferally.

He nearly gave in. But an image of Guido flashed in his head. Thinking that the sixteen-year old would not appreciate having a murderer for an older brother, he settled for a glare that could have rivaled Arbok's own paralyzing scowl.

"I'll be leaving in a while, since I know it's illegal for me to be here. But one last question. What's happening in Coast Cave?" He directed that to the goons.

"Not saying," the braver—or perhaps stupider—guy answered.

Mouth tightening into a thin line, Daith strode over to the henchman and seized him by his shirt. Eyes glowing an iridescent green, he released the mental locks on his retrocognition and absorbed all the images that came out from the man's memories and previous actions. Once he was done, he dropped him and dusted his hands, as if he had grasped something filthy. Eyes glowing again, he murmured, "You are going to forget everything that transpired here. The only thing you'll remember is that you drank too much ale and ended up somewhere near the oasis. You will have no memory of me or of the reason why your pokémon have fainted. Now go." With a wave of his hand he opened the door.

Like mindless puppets, the two got to their feet and shuffled out. Daith watched their retreating forms for a few moments before calling Arbok to his side.

"_He needs to get all the sleep he can, Missus Redspike, for the next big heist tomorrow morning."_ That's what one of the henchmen had said. He didn't mean the Beam Tournament, did he?

_Guido… the misery you must have gone through…_ Forcing a shy, kind-hearted soul to commit a crime was nothing but brutal. Whoever this Dennison was, he would relish destroying his mind, or doing something just as poisonous. He moved to step out the door but was abruptly stopped by a desperate "Wait!"

His feet suddenly seemed planted to the ground. But he didn't look at her.

"You're Daith… you're Daith!" She sniffed and failed to suppress a sob. "Please… you…" She heaved a shuddering breath. "You can stay angry. It's alright. I won't even ask you to save your father."

_He's not my father. And you aren't my mother. Guido is the only family I have left._

"But please… save Guido. He doesn't want this. It's killing him. Dennison's rendered him helpless because of that thing he's done to his mind. Maybe he was able to pass you a message when you met, and that's why you're here. You heard what that henchman said: Guido might be at Coast Cave. Please… save him! Please…"

The rest of her words dissolved into soft sobs. Daith walked out despite the heaviness in his feet and his heart. He didn't dare look back, and to prevent himself from doing so he immediately teleported back to his hotel room in Ebony. Hands shaking and still haunted by his mother's quiet crying, he brought out his box of cigarettes, shook one out, but didn't light it.

The room was dark and cool, and he preferred it like that. That way, no one, not even Arbok, would have to see the tears cascading down his cheeks.

- x x x -

Guido unfurled the reed mat for his father and laid it beside a stack of wooden crates, away from the scathing eyes of Dennison, Cassius, or other Clan henchmen. The kerosene lamp did little in illuminating the dimness of Coast Cave, and this was a problem because stalagmites were always more than willing to inflict harm on unsuspecting passers-by. The reed mat did little to cushion the hard, pebbly ground, a fact made apparent when Guido eased his father on it, and the latter winced.

"I'm sorry there's nothing softer," he told him.

Dad fixed him with a no-nonsense look and just said, "You're a brave boy, son."

Unnerved by his gaze, Guido looked away. He was probably referring to how he went through with the Clan's schemes even though he despised doing it. Unable to think up an appropriate answer, he replied with, "We'll get out of this. Then you can get back home and have some of Mom's fig pie."

Dennison had allowed his father to be untied so he could sleep properly. But just for this night. Guido supposed that he could immediately teleport Dad home, but he was too tired and weak. Furthermore, he didn't want to risk the safety of his father.

When Dad finally began snoring, he unrolled his own reed mat and crawled onto it.

Tomorrow would be the same. And because the Beam Tournament was the final major competition of the entire Pokémon Fair, it was also probably his last chance to do anything about his situation. The two ships from Kanto had arrived and were docked in the underground harbor. Transport of the stolen goods and cash had already begun.

He had little time left.

It would all have to depend tomorrow. At the Beam Tournament.

- x x x -

Sitting quietly on the shore found to the north of Coast Woods, Cassius Lummer reeled in his line to retire for the night. Ever since he had caught that Wailmer in the fishing competition yesterday morning, his luck with the rod had run out.

Unfortunately for him, that wasn't the only thing that had disappeared. So had his role in procuring funds for the Clan.

That upstart garden wielder! Dennison and his radical ideas! Even this one about leaving the island and expanding into the bigger regions, despite Quodo's own reluctance to proceed with the endeavor! If the head himself wasn't keen on the idea, then why was Dennison still pushing for it?

The pointy-nosed psychic had something up his sleeve. And he didn't like it. Cassius knew that the whole thing was fishy, and he didn't even have to be an angler to figure that out.

Heading back towards the hideout, he trudged through the foliage and twigs of Coast Woods. Tomorrow was an important day. If the boy was going to lay a hand on the Beam Tournament cash…

Cassius smirked. It would be a pleasure to take that chance away from him. He'd steal the money for himself. Then, once the opportunity came, he'd leave the Clan and make it big on his own. Snatching a few strong Water pokémon would be a plus, and fortunately for him, the sheer number of tournament challengers tomorrow would present an ample spectrum.

_You think you're so smart, Dennison? You and your juvenile delinquent? Not to worry. Cassius Lummer will outsmart all of you._


	21. Chapter 20

Author's Notes_  
I'm alive! No, we don't say that like a zombie from the grave… maybe a bit more like… David Cook and his song? :D_

_Wow. Been almost half a year since my last update. Finally found a rhythm in my working schedule that'll allow me to write._

_This was not an easy chapter. Since I haven't written in quite a while, I had to go through my notes over the past how many months for a little recall. Then I had four revisions before I got satisfied with the chappie. There was a time when I had to delete two to three hours of work just because it didn't feel right. I hope the end result's clearer and less of a verbal labyrinth._

_I don't own Pokémon. And I never will, even if the number of little critters you can catch reaches a thousand. I wonder if that'll happen… But, well, as long as the same formula in this particular video game franchise sells… it just might._

_EDIT (8-11-09): I've decided to change Warren's name to something else. Why, you ask? Well... I just realized that it's generally not a good idea to have a minor character have the same starting letter as a major one. It makes the minor character less memorable. Or maybe I think too much...  
_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 20**

The late morning sunlight poked Wade in the eyes. Groaning, he peered at the digital clock and nearly fell off the bed when he saw that it was eight thirty.

_My arms still ache_, he thought sourly. He had probably been more tired than he thought. He pushed himself up but nearly fell over when his arm muscles protested. Wondering if he should sleep the entire morning or drag himself to the bathroom for a shower, Wade decided that the former seemed a more enticing prospect. He rubbed his shoulder and winced. Sleep definitely sounded better…

Glancing at Skye's bed, he was surprised to find that the other wasn't there. The spat from last night came back to his memory, and before he knew it his mouth had curled into a frown.

"_It just means that I have a lot more faith in people," Skye gnarled back, "unlike someone I know who doesn't do anything else but dwell on the past! So now you can't see anything beyond that cloud of gloom, now can you? That's just pathetic!"_

His fist clenched.

If it really showed that he had a hard time letting go of the Consable Clan, then why did Skye have to rub it in his face? Did the moron really think that it was easy to move on with all these emotional manacles? Especially since the goons were still there, causing trouble at the Fair and forever reminding him that he was nothing but a crook's son?

It was unfair. The idiot had never known what fear of one's father felt like. He had never been beaten up and tossed around like a useless pet. He had never buried his own mother. He had never…

The thought remained unfinished.

Unfair? Plopping down on the bed, he nearly laughed, and it wasn't out of mirth. Was he talking about Skye… or was he talking about himself?

[I'm glad you're considering that,] Umbreon suddenly said.

Not sure what to feel, Wade curled up and buried his face into his knees. [Shut up.] But he didn't mean it, and Umbreon acknowledged this with a mental chuckle.

Now that he thought about it, who was the more unfair one? What was he thinking, verbally attacking Guido like that? Wade had even shoved his own speculations about why he was the culprit down Skye's throat. Realizing only now that the blonde was very protective of his friends, he felt his spirits sink lower.

_It was the same at the Swimmer's Cup,_ he thought in wonder, recalling the three stooges and their intimidation tactics. _He looked like he was ready to give those three a thrashing._

And now Skye was sticking up for Guido despite all the evidence.

How could the idiot believe so much in his friends? Wouldn't that only lead to a world of disillusionment? Of pain? How could he take such a risk to himself?

_I don't get him at all, the moron!_

But even if that was the case, it didn't excuse him from trying harder. If Skye could believe in a thief's son who knew nothing else but wallow in a cloud of gloom, then maybe he should start reserving judgment regarding Guido. And even if the scrawny sixteen-year old was indeed robbing the Fair blind, it wouldn't hurt to ask why, now would it?

He would try harder. Even if it killed him.

[Are you going to look for him?] Slowbro asked.

[Skye, that is,] Slowking clarified. [But it wouldn't be bad to run into Guido, as well.]

Choosing not to answer, he crawled out of bed and acquired a change of clothes from his drawers: a black tank top and brown calypso pants. He was about to go into the bathroom when his eyes caught a glimpse of yellow near Skye's pillow. A pamphlet? He picked it up and browsed through its contents:

- x x x -

_Need a little challenge in the midst of all the fanfare? Raring to lock horns with tough trainers? Or are you perhaps aching to teach your Tentacool or Corsola Ice Beam? Clamoring to slap a Psybeam on that Psyduck or Ledian? Then come join the Beam Tournament! Named after the various beam attacks, the event can give even the most diehard trainer the battle of his life!_

_Take a gander at the prizes: 30,000 pokéyen and TM Hyper Beam for the champion, 20,000 pokéyen and TM Ice Beam for the first runner-up, and 10,000 pokéyen and TM Solarbeam for the second runner-up! Also, all those who enter the finals will receive TM Bubblebeam, complements of the Beam Committee! For the non-competing trainer, move tutors will be scattered all throughout the premises with the following move tutor techniques: Signal Beam, Charge Beam, Aurora Beam, and Psybeam._

_What are you waiting for? Come to the Beam Tournament now! The grind starts this Thursday, 9 a.m. at the Beam Ground!_

- x x x -

Wade glanced again at the prize money. He felt his gut clench. That was a lot of pokéyen to steal…

He looked at the digital clock. Quarter to nine. Before he knew it he was running to the bathroom for a quick shower, struggling into his tank top and calypso pants, slipping into his walking shoes, and thudding down the stairs with pokéballs in tow. If he was lucky he might be able to make it… He didn't know what his chances were against a wielder, but…

As soon as he reached the bottom, he was surprised to find that there were hardly any customers. In fact, shoppers were so few that Lilibeth actually had time to brush her Teddiursa's fur, while Angeline was occupied munching on a corn muffin. Wondering where Mr. Andies was, Wade spotted the pokémart owner inspecting his collection of move tutor disks in the storeroom, amid the towering piles of Chinchou Chow bags.

"Good morning, Wade," greeted Mr. Andies, his eyes and fingers still on the disks. "Are you hungry? There're some leftover chicken buns somewhere on the table. Anyway, Skye went ahead. He didn't want to wake you up since you were all worn-out from the Swimming Cup yesterday. Maybe he's gone to the Beam Tournament. If you're interested in following, the Beam Ground's in the grasslands just south of Ebony. I suspect that's where all the trainers are, which explains the dearth in customers."

"Mr. Andies!" Angeline called. "Someone wants a Roost on his pokémon!"

Mr. Andies snapped his case of move tutor devices shut, then—to Wade's shock—abruptly tousled his hair. He winced before he could stop himself. "Run along, then. Kids like you should be getting the most out of your youth, and the Fair events are the perfect things to do just that. But the next time you get yourself in a competition, call me." The pokémart owner flashed him a proud smile. "No matter what happens, I _have_ to be there."

Wade was sure that his cheeks were on fire. He simply nodded before snatching a chicken bun from the table then following Mr. Andies out.

A man with flaming red hair that neatly fell down to his nape stood in front of the counter with his hands on his knees. "Sorry for the rush," he gasped in between breaths, "but I'm running kind of late for the Beam Tournament. I was hoping to get a Roost on my Skarmory before the battles, and I heard that there's a move tutor here with that kind of technique, so…"

"No problem," Mr. Andies said. "Now that you mention it, Wade here's heading off to that direction. Maybe you two could go together once I'm done with your Skamory…?"

Wade's eyebrow twitched. But before he could voice out his objections the man had already detached a pokéball from the hem of the front pocket of his brown shirt and released the Steel-Flying pokémon. "Sure. The name's Talcott. Talcott Dimms." As Mr. Andies attached one of his black disks on the bird's forehead, Talcott extended a hand towards Wade, who looked at it as if it would stab him. On noting his reaction, Talcott just smirked and remarked, "Ah, so you're still in the stormy seas of adolescence. I'm glad I'm finished with those years."

A vein twitched on Wade's forehead, but he kept his mouth shut despite how painful it was.

"Your pokémon already has four moves," Mr. Andies told Talcott. "Which one do you want Skarmory to forget?"

Talcott glanced at Wade up and down before answering. Wade fumed but bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling the guy's head off. "I'm going to put myself at a disadvantage if I tell it out loud. Unless you're not in the tournament?"

Mr. Andies chuckled. "Competitive, aren't we? You won't have to worry about anything; Wade's simply interested in watching the battles. Aren't you, Wade?"

He flashed Talcott his teeth and hoped that the idiot mistook it for a smile. How could he put himself at a disadvantage when he was simply going to mention the move that was going to be forgotten? But he just replied with, "That's right."

"Great!" the man said. "Agility, then."

Once Mr. Andies was finished, he recalled his Skarmory and paid. After a quick "Thank you" he strode out the door, but not before flashing Wade an impatient frown.

"We better get going if you want to see those battles." Wade was pretty sure that he meant, "Hurry up so you don't make me late for my matches!" After receiving a hearty "Bye! Have fun!" from Mr. Andies, he stalked after the annoying fellow but made sure to keep his distance.

Before Wade could inconspicuously wander off, though, Talcott suddenly slowed down, looked back at him while walking, and asked, "So, do you train?"

Caught off guard by the question, Wade blinked before nodding.

"What pokémon do you have?"

"Why?"

Talcott arched an eyebrow at him. "Can't a guy ask a fellow trainer about trainer stuff?" he replied huffily. "Honestly, what's with you? You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or something?"

_Can't a guy ask a fellow trainer to shut up?_ Wade thought, his eyebrow twitching again. "Fine, if it'll make you stop asking questions. I have an Umbreon, a Gyarados, a Slowbro, and a Slowking. There. Happy?"

For a reason that Wade couldn't fathom, Talcott's eyes suddenly widened. Distracted, the moron nearly crashed into a pair of capering Ludicolo, but that didn't save him from splatting into a chubby lady's front. Said chubby lady instantly shrieked and whammed her handbag at his head. To make matters worse, her pokémon, a corpulent, crescent-faced cat—what _was_ that monstrosity?—that had been startled by its trainer's screech hissed and slammed into Talcott. He naturally plunked down, unconscious.

"Oh my flapping Lugia…" The lady's pudgy hands flew to her mouth in chagrin. "I'm so sorry!"

Wade sighed, but inside he was giggling like a maniac. After assuring the lady that Talcott was still alive, he hauled him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him through the crowds.

_Idiot… How am I supposed to rush to the Beam Ground to catch Guido when I'm lugging a sack of meat around? Besides, what's with all the fuss about my pokémon? Never saw a Slowbro or a Slowking before?_

[Sack of meat?] Gyarados suddenly said. [That reminds me. Where's my Chinchou Chow? I want food!]

[Me too!] Umbreon piped up. Before Wade knew it, Sneasel and Horsea were clamoring for breakfast, as well. Lucky for him he left Murkrow's pokéball back home, or the stupid bird would be cawing the same thing.

Oddly enough, the Slow-twins were deathly quiet.

- x x x -

"Sandslash, Crush Claw!"

"Ampharos, blast it with a Thunderbolt!"

"Sceptile, finish it with Dragon Claw!"

"Houndoom, Flamethrower!"

"And the winner is… Fearow!"

Skye reeled from all the trainer commands and referee proclamations. Like soldiers going to war, participating pokémon unleashed their battle cries and their most powerful techniques in spectacular displays—a flurry of snow, a pulse of energy, a shower of rocks, or a quiver of the earth. A triumphant whoop or a defeated moan sometimes punctuated the constant din, along with the occasional pokémon paramedic exclaiming, "We better get your pokémon to the Pokécenter right away!" Add in the speakers booming out announcements and some upbeat songs, and it was like having one's ears beings bombarded with bombs.

Despite the onslaught of sound, Skye stared at the vast expanse of blue and white above him and breathed in the fresh grassland air. A balmy breeze toyed with his ponytail, tied with a blue ribbon today. Catching sight of an aerial battle between two Flying pokémon—one a triple-headed bird with no visible wings but with a powerful leap, and the other a bulky creature with a long neck and leaves sprouting from its back—he stopped and stared. Before he could even wonder what those pokémon were called, the triple-headed bird had already stabbed the reptile with leafy wings with its beaks, causing it to crash. He gasped. It did not get up.

"That's a Dodrio, huh?" he heard some of other spectators comment from behind him.

"Uh-huh," another answered. "That Tropius didn't have a chance. The type disadvantage said it all."

_I could watch these matches all day…_ Skye thought, still in a happy daze.

More battles littered the grasslands. He spotted a considerable number of uniformed guards walking around the premises with their pokémon following them: Graveler, Primeape, Gloom, and one even had a grumpy-looking Ursaring. They were probably there in case a ruckus erupted. Their headquarters seemed to be a collection of striped yellow and red tents located far off into the horizon. Skye's gaze stopped at those tents momentarily before moving on to the other sights.

In addition to the clearings that had been delineated for the battles, booths with long lines of tourists dotted the field. Move tutors. Just like the pamphlet said. Despite the lengthy lines, Skye was tempted to avail of their services so he could have a Signal Beam on his Yanma.

Unfortunately, joining the festivities was not the reason why he had gone to the Beam Tournament.

_Where are you, Guido?_

"Aha!"

Skye froze. That familiar voice made a chill slither down his spine. Thank goodness he was able to suppress that groan of despair.

"You like Flying types, don't you?" Agnes Bittlebee asked with a toothy grin that did not conceal her herby breath. The police psychic still sported her punk attire and creepy cane, only this time her jacket was black leather, and her skirt was a mild pink. Behind her was her Xatu, Briarby, with eyes as unreadable as ever. "Here!"

Before he knew it, he was running after the egg that the eccentric grandmother had suddenly chucked at him. He heaved a sigh of relief after catching it.

"How could you lob an egg like that?" asked Skye, horrified.

"It's nice to know that you want it," she answered. She shot her pokémon a withering glower, but the bird continued to stare off in the distance. Wait. Skye realized that the Xatu was staring at the egg. "It's Briarby's. The libidinous loon breeds like a Ditto. That's the fifth egg this month! I can't afford to take care of an entire clutch of chicks! I'm already underpaid by Malone as it is."

Skye could only swallow. Though once his brain had finally registered that he had gotten a new Flying type, he hugged the egg close.

"Is it okay…?"

"I gave it to you, didn't I?"

"… Are you sure?"

"Quit the cockamamie questions!" Agnes snapped with a rap of her cane on his foot. Skye winced but held the egg closer. "That thing's going to hatch soon. Been with me now for quite a while, but couldn't find a chump to dump it on. Had I known that a bird-lover like you would be around the Colors Contest, I'd have brought the thing with me last night and tossed it at you."

Briarby suddenly trilled behind her. She whirled around and started scolding the Xatu. "How many times have we been through this, you wanton warbler! No more eggs! You can't just go marching up to some stranger's bird pokémon and tell it that you're available for a little love! We can't afford it!" Her voice toned down, but she went on in mutters. "I should be baking brownies or doing some other kitchen-work instead of trying to convince a stubborn psychic pokémon to stop being an egg factory." She fixed Skye with a steely gaze and abruptly asked, "Where's your antisocial brother? He still got his underwear in a bunch?"

His mouth thinned. "Still asleep. He was tired from yesterday."

Agnes suddenly dropped her cantankerous disposition. She nodded, as if she knew what was going on and understood. With a tap of her cane on the grassy ground, she turned away and sighed. "I'd better get on to my next match, then."

"_You're_ a registered participant?" Skye asked incredulously.

"And why not?" Agnes cackled, a sound akin to nails on a chalkboard. "Ol' Agnes still got her armada of Psychics! Watch out, youth of the world, 'cause I'm coming out to get ya! And I'm not gonna kick the bucket that easily, you hear me!" After which she exploded in a round of unladylike guffaws that had the other contestants gawking at her. Skye nearly fainted from her execrable breath.

The egg in his hands suddenly trembled. Startled, he nearly dropped the frail thing. The Xatu began trilling and flapping its wings, but Agnes tapped it on its rump with her hideous cane in an attempt to shut it up.

[That's _my_ baby!] Skye heard the Xatu shrieking.

The trembling was stronger now. The egg felt like it would shatter in his hands, and before he could do anything about it, a chunk of shell fell off. Skye gulped. A few second more of shaking, and a beaked face finally peeked from the mess of broken shells.

The little Natu cheeped and gazed up at him. Mesmerized by the newborn, Skye stared at it as if there was nothing else in the world but the round bird. He felt warm in his chest, and for a few moments his troubles became a fleeting memory. He didn't even notice the few spectators who approached to coo and burble at the chick. Even Agnes telling him goodbye and pushing an agitated Briarby away failed to permeate his attention. He wondered how many eternities passed by before he realized that he was standing in the middle of a battleground with all kinds of pokémon matches occurring around him. A dangerous place for a newborn to be in, really.

"Here."

Skye blinked as he spotted a hand with a pokéball in it. He stared dumbly at its owner, who happened to be Daith. The man wore a plain violet shirt that matched his gleaming red earrings and casual blue jeans. As usual, his hair was in a wild tumble, and his green eyes smiled at him. Not for the first time, Skye wondered if he and Guido were related.

"Congratulations on having a new pokémon," Daith said.

Skye accepted the pokéball and coaxed the Natu inside. "Thanks. It was given by Agnes…" He frowned as realized that the odd coot was nowhere in sight. "Where'd she go? Maybe she had another battle… Like _you_, by any chance?" he asked, his eyebrows inquisitively arched at the other. "Though seeing that you just got here from Sinnoh, I doubt that you're here to participate in the matches. Am I right?"

Daith glanced at the distance before turning back to meet his eyes. "I'm looking for someone."

"Same here," Skye said. "Though I wouldn't mind watching some of these battles. Most of these pokémon are completely new to me!"

Daith offered him a small smile. "I take it you're not on duty at the pokémart today? Or did you sneak off? I won't blame you if you did. There are so many things to do out here, after all."

Skye laughed. "I'm licensed to be here. Dad's a really nice guy and gave us the day off."

Daith still had that small smile, but for some odd reason his eyes grew wistful. Feeling that he had touched a nerve, Skye was about to apologize, except that he didn't really know what to say to someone he had just met a few days ago. Before he could come up with something, Daith sighed and placed a hand on Skye's shoulder. "I'd better go. Take care of your father and kid brother, okay? Maybe we'll see each other again." And with that, he walked off and disappeared into the crowd.

A bit baffled, Skye blinked. What was that all about? He stifled a sigh of his own and observed that the day didn't seem to have any intention of making him forget about that "kid brother" of his. It wasn't even lunch time yet, and already two different people had asked about Wade.

Had he been too hard on him?

"_It just means that I have a lot more faith in people," Skye gnarled back, "unlike someone I know who doesn't do anything else but dwell on the past! So now you can't see anything beyond that cloud of gloom, now can you? That's just pathetic!"_

The words rang in his mind. Mortified at himself, he blushed. _I can't believe I said those words… _Now that he thought about it, maybe he'd been a bit too cruel… Was that what that twist in his gut and lump in his throat were telling him?

Still, that didn't give Wade the right to fire all those accusations at Guido. Even though all the evidence screamed that the sixteen-year old was the crook. There was no way that he'd steal all that money, even if his family was financially constrained.

How far would faith in his friends bring him? Was he truly willing to turn a blind eye to all the previous events?

[You've always trusted your friends, Skye,] Ledian suddenly said. [Justice can wait until you've seen the whole picture. There's always a reason why people do things.]

[You just have to find out what they are,] Pidgeot put in.

It was why he was here in the midst of all these pokémon battles, wasn't it? He needed to find Guido. Taking a few steps forward, he let his eyes roam and hoped he'd spot that familiar tangle of black hair and that skinny frame. Or maybe he'd recognize him by his pokémon: a Ledian and Jumpluff of his own, a Lombre or perhaps a Ludicolo, or that unfamiliar red bug with the moustache that had performed with him last night at the Colors Contest. Unfortunately, with so many dancing Ludicolo littered throughout Ebony, and with Ledyba and Hoppip being such common pokémon found in the wild outside town, the only dead giveaway he had left was that Kricketune.

What would happen if he _did_ find him? Would Guido reveal everything? Would he try to flee? Or would he resist with a pokémon battle? If it meant a clash between wielders… Skye shuddered. He hoped that it wouldn't have to reach such a desperate conclusion.

_Guido… Where are you?_

[Maybe you should have asked Daith,] Ledian told him. Skye wasn't sure if the bug was jesting or not. [After all, you yourself noted that he _does_ look like Guido.]

He simply smiled, and halfheartedly at that.

- x x x -

"I'd better go. Take care of your father and kid brother, okay? Maybe we'll see each other again."

Those had been his last words to Guido's friend from the pokémart before leaving. What was that boy's name again? That overexcited girl from yesterday had called him Skye.

Walking through the milling crowd and not caring if he got pushed or shoved, Daith stared at the hand that had patted Skye's shoulder. Even though retrocognition was annoying at times, it had its uses. After that cursory physical contact with Skye, he now knew that his younger brother had been at the pokémart… but for what? For a little chat between friends who hadn't seen each other for a long time, then for a scrumptious dinner?—something that he'd repay them for, of course; after all, Guido needed the extra calories.

But then what? Nothing much, really. Nothing to point him to what he was supposed to do.

The current plan wasn't complicated: he'd find Guido, who would probably be skulking around the Beam Ground for "the next big heist," as that Consable henchman had put it last night; tail him once he was done with the theft; then maybe rescue his father in the process.

That was an added chore, of course. His insides curdled at the thought of that man, but what could he do? If something happened to his father, Guido would grieve, and that alone was enough to tear Daith apart.

The sun was getting hot, but at least the ocean breeze blew in a little relief from the heat. He caught sight of a booth selling hotdogs, burgers, and all other manners of grilled goodness, and suddenly remembered that he had skipped breakfast. Also, the numerous battles called out to him to participate, if not as a battler then at least as a spectator, but his interest in pokémon had momentarily fled.

Apprehension could do those things to a person, sometimes.

He slogged on, his eyes still roaming. Where _was_ Guido? Or perhaps a better question was, where was the prize money for the winners of the tournament? He was certain that he'd find his little brother near there. Maybe the cash was with the TMs that were going to be given as extra rewards…

A flash of bright stripes on the horizon snatched his attention. He spotted a cluster of tents in that direction. Those things didn't look like they were permanent structures; they had most likely been constructed for the Beam Tournament. It looked like a suitable spot to house something valuable. Maneuvering through the multitude of trainers, pokémon, and tourists, Daith approached the yellow and red tents.

"Hey, you! You feel like battling?"

Daith blinked and found himself staring at a lady who was probably in her thirties. A trainer. His mouth tightening, he was about to decline when another one, this time a burly guy with a hard hat, suddenly popped out of nowhere and rode right over her words. "I saw him first, Lizzie. Hey, you feel like taking on a bigger challenge? There's always me—"

"What's that supposed to mean, Fatso?" the girl called Lizzie snapped. "I could wipe the floor with you. Let me guess, you have nothing but Rock, Ground, or Fighting types? My Exeggutor will have them for dessert once I'm done with this guy."

Daith stepped back. "I'm really not—"

"Hey, hey!" a man in a white shirt with "Referee" written in front called to them. "Only registered matches are allowed within the Beam Ground. Are any of you competitors? Because if you are, you're violating—"

As the referee plodded through the crowd to scold them, Daith's heart froze. Green eyes that seemed mirror images of the green stud earrings dangling from his ears. An emaciated frame, partially concealed by a green sleeveless shirt and ripped denim pants. Right there a few feet behind the disagreeable referee.

_Guido._

"There's no rule saying that non-participants can't look for opponents in the Beam Ground," the girl named Lizzie was saying heatedly.

"What you're saying isn't in the rules!" the burly man argued.

Daith took a step towards Guido, who suddenly disappeared behind a parade of various unfamiliar pokémon being herded by their trainer to a match. His mouth went dry. He was about to shoot after his little brother when a hand on his shoulder nearly made him lose his balance.

"Are you listening to me?" the referee groused at him. "You can't just—"

Eyes flashing, Daith whirled around. "You three are going to forget your encounter with me," he said softly. "You will go on with your tasks."

Their eyes dulled. They nodded. Without bothering to see where they would go or what would happen to them, Daith pushed his way through the crowd. A little self-restraint prevented him from bowling through the mass of people and pokémon with telekinetic sweeps—not to mention, of course, good manners and prudent common sense—but that didn't stop him from shoving and shouldering. He hoped his murmured apologies to the people whose feet he had stepped on would bar the development of a riot.

After a few more moments of frantic searching, he finally caught sight of Guido again. Behind his little brother hovered a blue ball that deftly used the breeze to propel itself—his Jumpluff, which Daith had probably not noticed the first time he saw him. Failing to suppress a sigh of relief, he maintained a safe enough distance so that Guido wouldn't sense that he was being followed.

[Be careful,] Arbok suddenly said.

For a moment, Daith didn't answer. But as he followed his little brother, he told Arbok the one relentless thought in his mind that wouldn't let him go no matter how much he tried to calm himself.

[When I find that psychic, he'll learn never to mess with a Poison wielder's family ever again.]

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_Must move on with the next chapter... -wheeze, gasp- I already have an outline. Uh... sort of. :D_


	22. Chapter 21

Author's Notes_  
Yay. And here's the next chapter._

_I changed the name of the new character in Chapter 20 (therefore, Talcott = Warren). Why? Well, like I said in the previous chappie, it's not good to have a minor character have the same starting letter as a major one. The minor character becomes less memorable._

_To those who have reached this chapter, cookies for all of you! There's chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin. Super thank you. Don't forget to tell me what you think, m'kay? :D_

_I don't own Pokémon. May I throw a tantrum now? xD –gets whapped by muse-_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 21**

Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to walk around the Beam Ground without having at least one pokémon out. It made Wade a target for all the businessmen littered around the area. The shopkeepers generally didn't bother Beam Tournament participants, who were easy to identify since they were accompanied by their pokémon. But for those who sauntered about defenseless, they were easy prey. Wade growled as he was ambushed by another enterprising fool, who offered him an assortment of trinkets shaped like pokéballs.

It didn't help when he passed by a shop that offered different prizes for showing the shopkeeper various pokémon that she wanted to see. And when he saw that she was offering a Qwilfish for Slowbro and Slowking, the two Water-Psychic pokémon were out of their pokéballs faster than the saleslady could squeal.

Wade held the round creature in his arms and didn't mind the sharp spines poking his skin. When he glanced at the slow-twins, the two pokémon were observing him with expressions akin to amusement. At least, as much as allegedly sluggish and dopey pokémon could show amusement.

[It seems Christmas came early,] Slowbro quipped. Wade was only briefly surprised that the jibe had not come from Gyarados.

To think he was supposedly looking for Guido and trying to stop a theft from occurring. But no, here he was, ogling a newly acquired Qwilfish.

"That little fella's not much of a battler yet," the shopkeeper told him. "Didn't get to raise it much, so it's only a Level 5."

Wade blissfully didn't care. Now he had something to chuck at Skye when he was being a moron.

[Let's look for Guido,] Slowbro suddenly said.

[Or Skye,] Slowking added.

Popping out of his dreamy daze, he returned his newly-acquired Qwilfish into its pokéball and went back to the numerous battles that dotted the grassy fields of the Beam Ground. But this time, he kept the slow-twins out to prevent being waylayed by more deranged dealers.

While wading through the sea of competing trainers and pokémon—and seriously looking for Skye's sixteen year-old friend this time—he pondered what he'd do in case a confrontation ensued. Honestly, the thought of having to face a real wielder bothered him a little, especially since he had seen what Skye could do. How exactly did a wielder fight? Would Guido also use his powers to injure the opposing pokémon? Would that mean having to prepare for attacks coming from two foes? That would be disastrous, since being a trainer who loved Water types equated to an eventual loss due to the type disadvantage. And since Guido also used Bug types, pitting the slow-twins and his Umbreon against them would mean concocting more creative strategies just to make sure that his pokémon didn't faint on the first attack.

Maybe he could try talking Guido out it first. On second thought, maybe not. Diplomacy and patience were not his strong points, as proven by the argument last night.

Sighting a familiar face in the crowd, he suddenly stopped. A frown broke its way to his face.

Talcott Dimms was commanding a sleek, furry Fire pokémon to pummel its opponent, a trim blue bird with a red crest and forked tail. Not recognizing either of the pokémon, Wade edged closer. He glanced at Talcott, who seemed to have recovered from his encounter with the chubby lady and her chubby pokémon.

"Let's finish this with a Lava Plume, Typhlosion!" Talcott ordered, his eyes burning with the surety of victory.

The Fire pokémon cried out as it released clouds of unbearable heat from its body. Startled, its opponent shrieked as it was engulfed by the attack. The bird dropped to the ground, unconscious.

"And Talcott Dimms is the winner!" the referee declared.

Talcott smirked, as if the conclusion of the battle had been pre-determined from the start. "Better luck next time, bud." After giving his pokémon a high five, he took a moment to listen to the referee's instructions before heading for a quick break. But not before spotting Wade.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, still with that confident grin. "How'd you like that battle with my Typhlosion? That Swellow may have been speedy, but it can't withstand the kind of firepower that my pokémon has."

"You don't say," Wade flatly replied as he turned away to continue his search.

"Hey."

His common sense told him to keep moving, but he found himself facing the other again. Talcott was studying him as if he was wondering where to punch him. Undaunted, Wade wanted to see him try. And in case the guy got any stupid ideas about a battle, he'd simply send one of the slow-twins to teach the idiot to leave him alone.

"What is it?" Wade snapped.

Talcott continued his scrutiny for a few more moments before saying, "Thanks for bringing me here when that lady knocked me out."

Wade blinked. _What?_

"I came all the way from Johto just to be able to join this tournament," he continued. "It would have been a waste if I hadn't been able to make it." Suddenly smirking, Talcott placed his hands on his hips and drew too close for Wade's comfort. "Besides, I'd like to think that I have the good manners to thank someone for a favor done, even if that someone has a temper that's worse than a cranky old man's."

Wade fumed._ I'm going to kill you!_

Talcott sniggered. "You have no idea how fun it is to tease you. Kill me? Let me win the Beam Tournament first before you do that."

Wade's jaw dropped. Had he said that out loud? Before he could splutter an explanation, the other's expression suddenly grew serious. Talcott peered at something behind him. When Wade followed his gaze, all he saw were the slow-twins, which observed them as if watching a riveting drama.

"Where'd you get your Slowbro and Slowking?" Talcott softly asked.

Given a choice between answering and evading the question, Wade decided to go with the former since it would save him from the pain of incessant nagging. Why was Talcott so curious about his pokémon, in the first place? "Got them seven years ago from around here," he replied gruffly.

Talcott faced away, as if remembering someone who had died. Wade's forehead furrowed. _What's with the face?_

"I better get on with my next match."

"Talcott Dimms?" a referee called to him. "Your next opponent's here. This is Michael Ledgehaven."

Talcott nodded at the other boy before moving into position. Still nonplussed at the other's odd behavior, Wade shot his two Water-Psychic pokémon an inquisitive look. The slow-twins simply gazed back.

[Would it be alright to watch this battle, Wade?] Slowbro asked.

He stared at his pokémon. He found himself nodding before he could stop himself. Now his pokémon were acting weird…

"Participants, ready with your first pokémon!" the referee exclaimed.

Talcott hurled a great ball into the air and released the Skarmory that had just learned Roost. The boy named Michael brought out a Venusaur, which Wade knew was the Grass starter in Kanto, the region found to the west of Shore Island. Sporting a red bloom on its back that seemed radiant in the morning sun, it stomped a heavy foreleg on the ground and crushed the grass underneath.

"And… begin!"

"Lay some Spikes, Skarmory," Talcott ordered.

"May as well set-up, too," Michael said. "Growth!"

Skarmory flapped its stiff wings and flung a number of barbed objects to the ground, which its opponent warily eyed. Despite its uneasiness, Venusaur executed Growth, making the flora on its back swell.

"Drill Peck!"

"Leech Seed!"

Wade's mouth tightened. That Drill Peck was going to hurt. As the Steel-Flying pokémon charged at its foe, the Venusaur fired a flurry of seeds, which buried themselves into Talcott's pokémon despite its metallic protection and sprouted. Still, the Flying attack connected, and Venusaur shuddered but stood its ground. Worried about another Drill Peck, Michael used a Hyper Potion, but after the onslaught from Skarmory his pokémon eventually fell.

A Raichu took the Venusaur's place, but it landed on the Spikes on the ground and winced. Spotting its opponent and thinking it an easy win, the Electric pokémon brushed aside the negligible damage and readied to attack, its long tail waving wildly. Unfortunately for Skarmory, the Leech Seed took effect, and its strength continued to be mercilessly sapped.

"Thunderbolt!"

Talcott's Skarmory didn't stand a chance. With a crispy sizzle it plopped to the ground, knocked out. Unfazed by the loss of one pokémon, Talcott brought out a dark blue bug with a formidable horn on its head. Wade swallowed and involuntarily stepped back as he saw it. Why did it have to be a bug? If he wasn't mistaken the thing was called a Heracross, which was Bug-Fighting. Before he knew it he had bumped into Slowbro's pink body behind him.

[It won't hurt you,] Slowking magnanimously told him. Wade didn't know if the Water-Psychic pokémon was trying to rile him up or was sincerely trying to reassure him. Either way, he kept his distance from the battle.

"Swords Dance, Heracross!" Talcott cried.

So bugs could dance, after all. Wade still didn't have to like them, though. Heracross hopped a few steps, and a ring of shining swords surrounded it.

"I think you'll enjoy knowing that my Raichu knows some Fighting moves," Michael said with a confident grin. "Raichu, show that bug your Seismic Toss!"

The Electric rodent lunged towards Heracross before it could react, grabbed it by the arms, spun, and hurled it high into the air. Heracross dropped to the grassy ground with a mighty crash. Stunned, the Bug-Fighting pokémon struggled to get up.

"We're not done yet," Talcott said. "Heracross, finish that rat! Close Combat!"

Raichu didn't have time to hop back to keep a safe distance; it was immediately trounced by the powerful Fighting technique. Jabs, punches, and slams: all these rained down on the Electric pokémon in an unforgiving fury. Raichu had no other choice but to go down.

"You've just laid your defenses open after that attack," commented Michael, who looked like he was struggling to keep his optimism despite the loss of two pokémon. "Let's see how your Fighting type deals with a ghost! Gengar, come out here and start with Shadow Ball!"

Once the Ghost-Poison pokémon came out, the air around the battle field suddenly changed, as if the incarnation of malevolence had just appeared. Gengar's blood-red eyes and maniacal grin could have been an attack by themselves, something to intimidate the foe into a pathetic, shivering ball that was incapable of performing its moves. It spitefully glanced at the Spikes on the ground, which were harmless to Flying types and pokémon with the Levitate ability. The ghost then gathered dark energy in between its palms then hurled it at the Heracross, which shook and squealed.

"You okay, buddy?" Talcott called to his pokémon. Not fainting was enough of an answer, and the Bug-Fighting pokémon showed that it wouldn't be cowed by keeping a steady stance. "Great! Let's teach this noob a lesson on covering for weaknesses. Night Slash!"

Michael gasped. As Wade watched Heracross lunge towards the ghost, he grudgingly had to admit that Talcott was an adept battler—despite being a cocky dunderhead. It seemed like he thought ahead and planned his pokémon's moves accordingly. With move-sets like those, Wade wouldn't be surprised if Talcott reached the finals.

A few seconds later found Gengar out of commission, placing Michael in a dung-heap of trouble. His final pokémon had to be extremely high-leveled to beat Talcott's remaining four, something that Wade didn't think was going to happen.

"We'll have to make the most out of this, then," Michael said, his mouth a thin line. "Slowpoke, do your best!"

As the pre-evolved form of the slow-twins materialized, Talcott froze like a pokémon hit by a Thunder Wave. Not even pleased that the opposing pokémon had taken damage from the Spikes on the ground, the guy paled and stared at the Slowpoke as if he were terrified of it.

[He's not going to pass out, isn't he?] Wade flatly asked the slow-twins.

The two didn't answer.

"Slowpoke, fire a Confusion attack!" Michael said.

That still didn't snap Talcott out of his shock. But Heracross getting knocked out did. He distractedly recalled his fainted pokémon and brought out another pokéball, but he didn't seem to be aware what was inside. Out popped a yellow lizard with a shiny red orb at the end of its tail. It looked like an Electric type. The yellow pokémon stared at its trainer with worry.

"Another Confusion, Slowpoke!" called Michael, who seemed oblivious to his opponent's change in behavior.

Talcott was still staring. His pokémon cried as it was engulfed by the Psychic attack.

_What is going on?_ Where was that conceited demeanor that the idiot carried himself with? Why was it that Talcott looked like he was going to be stampeded on by a herd of Tauros when all he was faced with was a tubby Slowpoke? He was in the middle of a tournament, one that he travelled all the way from Johto for, and he had no business spazzing out in the middle of a match! Wade's fist clenched.

"Hey, moron!" he called out. "Get a grip! Your pokémon's waiting for an order! Are you just going to space out while it gets clobbered?"

Talcott shook himself off his daze then scowled at him. "Quit your yapping!" he growled. "I'll handle this. Ampharos, let's go with a Discharge!"

Elated that its trainer was back in action, the yellow lizard let loose a volley of electrical energy. Wade released a relieved sigh.

[You were very kind to do that,] Slowbro told him.

Wade flashed it a look that asked, "Have you popped a cork? What are you talking about?" before focusing his attention back to the battle. Besides, he simply didn't want that Ampharos or whatever it was called to faint just because its trainer had lost his nerve. Moreover, it was already obvious at this point that Michael's pokémon team wasn't up to par with Talcott's, so it would make a loss for the latter all the more humiliating. Despite such reasoning, Slowbro's comment still put his cheeks on fire.

The battle was over before he knew it. As the referee declared him the winner, Talcott approached the fainted Slowpoke and fished something from his pocket. Worried for his pokémon, Michael strode over to them and was about to ask him what he was going to do when Slowpoke suddenly gained consciousness.

"I took the liberty of using a Revive," Talcott said, looking away. "Is it okay? It didn't get hurt too badly, did it?"

"A Revive?" Michael asked. "Those things cost a fortune!" He gathered the Slowpoke into his arms and placed an affectionate hand on its head. It rumbled deep from its throat. "We could have gone to the Pokémon Center, you know. Now I owe you."

Talcott seemed embarrassed at the notion of someone being indebted to him. "Just… take care of your pokémon, okay?" His eyes remained pinned on the Slowpoke, as if all the memories in his entire lifetime could be found on it. The Water-Psychic pokémon stared back with a dopey grin. "That's all the thanks I'll ever need. Besides, your pokémon did a great job. They're really in synch with their trainer."

Despite the loss, Michael glowed at this comment. "You think? Thanks. I'm bringing them out for a lunch celebration for participating in their first major tournament."

Talcott offered him a small smile.

[He's changed,] Slowbro suddenly said. Slowking nodded happily. The two continued to watch Talcott as if observing a favorite nephew. Wade didn't get it at all.

For a moment, anyway. But then he remembered that Talcott had had the same reaction when he found out about him having the slow-twins. Then there was that weird reaction towards the Slowpoke…

It couldn't be.

But Slowbro and Slowking _would_ recognize him… right?

Wade's vision darkened. His jaw clenched. His hands balled. A snarl struggled to claw its way out, but he held it at bay.

[You feel like having a double battle, you two?] he growled at the Slow-twins. [I'm really looking forward to smashing the guy to a pulp. And what better way to do it with than with you guys?]

Slowking touched his arm, and a jolt of electricity seemed to course through it. Wade faced the Water-Psychic pokémon, which shook its head.

[I'm happy for him,] it said. Though it was difficult to believe, Slowking looked like he meant it. [There's no need to be angry. Slowbro and I certainly aren't.]

Wade's eyes widened. [But… why? How can you…]

[He is not the same,] Slowbro answered. Its unhurried and gentle tone whittled away at Wade's resentment. [Don't you think that everyone deserves a second chance? The very chance that you yourself were given? A chance to change, to better one's self. Look at him now. Look at _you_ now. See how different things are.]

[I would not mind being under his command,] Slowking added. It gazed steadily at Wade, who couldn't meet such honest and unwavering eyes. Eyes that shone with unabashed happiness. He looked away, back at Talcott, who was receiving instructions from the referee. [But I already have a wonderful trainer, and I plan to stay with him for the rest of his life. If he will let me.]

And that was it. His anger was immediately gone.

_Don't you think that everyone deserves a second chance?_ The words resonated in his mind and echoed like a mantra.

"Do you regularly butt in others' battles like that?" an obnoxious voice asked from behind him.

He faced Talcott, who was smirking. When he didn't answer, the other rapped him genially on his arm and said, "Thanks. You keep doing stuff like that for me and one day I'll have to buy you a house and lot just to repay my debts."

Wade gazed at him for a moment then shook his head. He brought out the slow-twins' pokéballs and recalled them. Wondering if the person in front of him was for real, and completely flummoxed by the slow-twins reactions, he continued to stare at the other.

"… Maybe you already have," he said softly.

Talcott blinked and frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Wade tucked his hands in his pockets and started to walk off, back to the true reason why he was here at the Beam Tournament.

"Good luck, Talcott. I'll be seeing you. Who knows, I might see you on the winner's podium."

"It's not 'might,'" the arrogant jerk called out to him. "It's 'will,' for sure!"

Wade almost smiled. The slow-twins may have pledged Talcott's change for the better, but what was the betting that much of him was still the same?

Lost within himself, Wade wandered amidst the clamor of salesmen calling out their bargains, trainers barking orders, explosions from various attacks, and the growls and cries of battling pokémon. He didn't even mind when he nearly got trampled on by a gaggle of ladies accompanied by various Grass pokémon, nor did he notice when he got accosted again by a flock of salesmen. His mind kept replaying what the slow-twins had said.

_The very chance that you yourself were given? A chance to change, to better one's self…_

For some odd reason, Mama's words alighted on his mind like a Swablu's gentle flapping ruffling the surface of a lake.

_Family and friends are treasures._

He spotted a collection of tents in the distance, their red and yellow stripes demanding attention. His steps grew quicker. Before he knew it, he was jogging towards the colorful structures, with a blaze of hope so strong that he felt like he could swim in a race all day long.

_A second chance…_

- x x x -_  
_

A second chance. There would be none if he failed to snatch the prize money before that annoying wielder brat did.

Cassius Lummer observed the brightly colored tents looming in front of him. It didn't take being a psychic to know that this was probably where the cash was. There were too many police officers with their pokémon prowling about, and he wouldn't be surprised if there were more of them inside the tents. And this was why he was here under the shade of a tree with his Wooper, standing casually like a tournament participant waiting for his next match. The tumbler in his hand was the perfect accessory to show that he was indeed taking a break, and he sipped it greedily.

"Done with your match?" a gaunt police officer asked as he approached him. Behind him trailed a furry creature with a prominent snout and a long, curled tail—a Mankey, probably caught from Coast Woods.

"I'm a bit pooped out," Cassius replied, and added a wipe on his forehead and a loud sip from his tumbler for good measure. "I'll be going back in a while. Oh, and here's my I.D., in case you're wondering." He flashed the laminated piece of paper for just a moment before jamming it back into his pocket. Besides, the longer it stayed out in the open, the higher the chance of it being detected as a fake.

"That's a cute Wooper you have there. Ever think of evolving it?" After Cassius's indifferent shrug, the police man nodded as if he was satisfied with his answer and said, "Alright. Be careful out there. And good luck."

Cassius scowled at the police officer's retreating form. Why did they have to patrol even here, where hardly anyone frequented? It was the reason why he had chosen this spot in the first place. He doubted that even that blasted flower-boy would find him in such an isolated part of these stupid tents. After all, it was an area surrounded on three sides by those annoying red and yellow stripes and hidden by the shade of a tall tree.

"We better start Digging, then," he muttered. "Wooper, you know what to do… Wooper? Oh, you ridiculous, slimy sleepyhead! This is no time for a nap—"

The next words got trapped in his throat. A chill made his hands and feet go cold. His Wooper lay on the ground with drool trickling from its wide-open mouth. A few flecks of green dotted the soil around it.

_It's him! He's around here somewhere—_

Cassius didn't finish the thought. He dropped into darkness before he could even scream.

- x x x -

Author's Notes_  
Yes, it's building up (Is it? Or am I just delusional? xD). I hope I can make the big event reeeeally sizzzzzzling. xD_

_BTW, did you guys guess who Talcott Dimms is? If not... Eep. Didn't get my message across, then.  
_


	23. Chapter 22

Author's Notes  
_Good grief. My last update was 2 years ago. I'm sorry for such a long hiatus. To make things worse, my laptop containing all my fanfic files just crashed. Fortunately, I made a back-up. I re-read all my notes and plot schemes before jumping back into the fic, so hopefully I haven't left anything out or added something that doesn't belong here._

_So, without further ado, here's Chapter 22._

_I don't own Pokemon. *blows a wet, childish raspberry*_

- x x x -**  
**

**CHAPTER 22**

Clutching the strap of his bag close, Guido dropped from the tree and glanced at Cassius Lummer's form as if it were a rock that added to the scenery. Slumped on the grass beside his Wooper, the old man snored, but not loud enough to attract attention. Ledian fluttered behind him with the same impassive expression that Guido had. It picked up an object that had fallen from Lummer's garments: a mask with rubber fastenings. Certainly nothing but a trifling excuse for protection from Sleep Powder.

[Let's go,] prompted the Bug-Flying pokémon, dropping the mask.

Guido stepped over Lummer and faced the tent. He strengthened his wielder link with Kricketune then slashed the tent flap with a Fury Cutter. Afterwards, he slipped his hand in, shifted the wielder link to Jumpluff, and released a Sleep Powder. He waited. A few moments elapsed, then surprised cries and audible thuds ensued.

Breathing heavily, Guido retracted his hand and snatched a second to steady himself. But only a second. He might be feeling weak and dizzy from overexertion, but the vindictive hand of time remained ticking. Ledian knew this, as well, so it dispensed with the inquiries of concern.

With his hand leaning on the wall of the tent, Guido wobbled towards the entrance, fully expecting the guards and their pokémon to be asleep.

Except that a trio of Mankey were running around the inside of the tent, futilely trying to wake their trainers up. Bewildered, Guido stared.

[What…?]

On sighting him, the Fighting pokémon screeched. Two of them scampered deeper into the tent, while the remaining one launched itself at him with a hand outstretched for a Karate Chop. Before Guido could react, Ledian lunged to block the attack from reaching its trainer and and let loose an Air Cutter. Sharp blades of wind flew from its wings and slashed at the Mankey, which shrieked before dropping to the ground.

Footsteps. More guards were coming from deep within the tent. Those two other Mankey had probably alerted them. Too exhausted to teleport to safety, he made to run but was stopped as he felt that stroke again in his mind. Dennison was watching. And he wanted the money _now_. Throwing all common sense to the winds, Guido stood his ground and quietly observed the police officers, who surrounded him with their pokémon—oddly, he noticed that most of them were either Mankey or their evolved form, Primeape—and blocked the exit. He closed a fist around Ludicolo's pokéball and released the Water-Grass pokémon. Despite the situation, it eyed the policemen as if they were potential dancing partners.

The one in charge, a muscular man who looked like he ate rocks for breakfast, stepped forward. "There are too many of us for you to do anything. I suggest you put your pokémon back to their balls and offer no resistance. It'll make things easier for you."

"Strike me with a Thunderbolt," Guido heard one of the other policemen mutter. "He's only a kid!"

[What should we do?] asked Ledian as it looked apprehensively at the police officers.

Swallowing, Guido wasn't sure. As he tried to think up of something, the man in charge suddenly spoke again.

"Pretty smart of you to think up of putting guards to sleep," he said. "But we have the perfect counter to that." He swept a hand towards his men's pokémon and smirked. "These guys have an ability called 'Vital Spirit,' which prevents sleeping during a battle. Too bad for you that there's an entire horde of them in Coast Woods up north. Now I suggest you be a good little boy and put your pokémon away, because if you don't we'll be forced to subdue you."

Guido had no time to marvel at the brilliance of it all. Dennison had touched his mind again.

The fluttering in his stomach disappeared. He slowly raised a hand in the air—

The muscular policeman nodded. "That's better—"

—and drained the energy of the opposing pokémon with Absorb. Emerald orbs of light seeped from the police officer's pokémon and flew into his raised hand. As this happened, Ludicolo and Ledian launched into action. Ludicolo fired his own green spheres in an attack known as Energy Ball, while Ledian released more Air Cutters. Alarmed cries pierced the air as the police pokémon fell one by one.

Feeling a little better after the Absorb attack, Guido released another Sleep Powder to take care of the guards. He watched as the green powder enveloped them like a ravenous fog. The last to fall was the muscular officer.

"How could you… Impossible…"

Guido stepped across the man's fallen form without so much as glancing at him and headed towards the inner areas of the tent. A minute of walking was all it took for the small safe to appear. Sitting on top of a set of drawers, the metallic box taunted him with a combination lock and dared him to teleport it to Dennison, who could probably decipher the correct sequence with his psychic powers.

The problem was, he had no strength left to do that. The Absorb might have helped replenish his diminishing energy, but it could never substitute for the hours of sleep that his body demanded.

[Just break the silly thing,] Ledian said from behind him.

[How are we going to do that without destroying what's inside?]

Ludicolo suddenly stepped forward to scrutinize the safe. After a few thoughtful noises, it said, [How about a Leech Seed?] At Guido's weary nod and Ledian's incredulous stare, Ludicolo fired the Grass technique, which plopped onto the dull surface and sprouted. Tendrils crept towards the cleft of the door like the fingers of a green, grotesque hand. As the Leech Seed worked its magic, Guido peered behind him to ensure that the guards were still asleep and to check if the ruckus had attracted anyone else's attention. Fortunately, not a soul came in sight.

The metal bent and squealed. Guido shared Ledian's astonishment as the vines pried the safe open.

[Better run,] Ledian said as it snatched the thick envelope inside. [Let's head for that hole you made at the side of the tent.]

Guido feebly nodded and trailed after the Bug-Flying pokémon. Ledian fired another Air Cutter at the hole to enlarge it and, after peering outside, fluttered off. Guido followed suit and leaped over Lummer's snoring form. After recalling his two pokémon, he ran into the crowds.

- x x x -

Skye's heart froze for a moment. Flitting in and out of noisy trainers and their excited pokémon, that familiar untidy mesh of hair and green earrings suddenly came into view just a short distance away. Time stopped shortly. Once he remembered to breathe, he squeezed in between a rotund old man with a Growlithe by his side and a teenager carrying a Pidgey—"Sorry! Excuse me!"— and bounded after Guido.

He snuck a glance at the striped tent a few meters behind him, and wondered if Guido had already made off with the prize money. Had he somehow bypassed security? Had he confronted the guards and overpowered them? No, maybe he had used that Sleep Powder—

He knew his thoughts were racing, but he couldn't help it. Still zigzagging in between Beam Tournament participants, battles, and spectators, he nearly tripped over a Quilava and was nearly singed by its volatile flames. He then accidentally stepped on a Geodude, and lucky for him the Rock-Ground pokémon had decided not to use anything hazardous, like Selfdestruct or Explosion, and had contented itself with an indignant rumble before going about its business. With his heart pounding like a Sudowoodo's Hammer Arm, Skye maintained his sights on Guido despite the milling throngs threatening to derail his course.

_There has to be a reason…_ Skye desperate clung to this thought.

- x x x -

Cold needles spread throughout Guido's exhausted body. He knew that blonde ponytail anywhere. Had he seen what had happened at the striped tent? Was this why Skye was following him? Or maybe he simply wanted to speak to a friend who shared a common interest in battling? After all, Skye was making no effort to disguise his pursuit of him. Guido swallowed. He couldn't risk his father's safety with gambles. He wiped the perspiration off his brow and mentally contacted the despicable Clan psychic.

[Dennison, I think someone's on my trail… Dennison?]

An almost languid reply entered his mind after a few seconds. [Hmm…? Is it the police? After all, they're finally getting a grasp of what's happening with all these thefts, the inept imbeciles. Would it happen to be your brother?] Dennison didn't seem worried.

[N… Neither.] Guido wondered how Dennison would react to a friend following him. A friend with wielder powers. [It's someone I know. I think he's here for the Beam Tournament.] Guido rapidly considered his options. He gasped as he accidentally squeezed in between a broad-shoulder man and a Machoke, both of whom were carrying a wooden plank. Mumbling a mechanical "Sorry," he continued trudging through the crowd with his mind in deep but frenetic contemplation before settling on a plan.

[I'll lead him somewhere else. I'm heading into Ebony.]

The mental line on the other end was silent for so long that he nearly fainted from nervousness. Then came Dennison's answer: "As you wish. Just remember: ensuring that he does not reach Coast Cave guarantees the safety of your father."

Guido swallowed again, then nodded.

- x x x -

Cassius Lummer jolted awake. For a moment he wondered what he was doing on the grass, under a tree with ample shade. Then it crashed into him. He stared at the mask that he had brought to supposedly protect himself against that garden brat's Sleep Powder.

His gaze wandered to his right. His eyes widened. Why was there such a big tear in the tent flap?

Realization hit him like a bouncing Wailmer. He was too late. Cassius snarled and staggered to his feet. He recalled his stupid Wooper into its pokéball and ran away from the tent. His entire body trembled. While scurrying among the jostling masses, he yelled at a teenager who was blocking his way. The boy started and was about to shout back but saw the expression on his old face and promptly backed off.

"That upstart!" Cassius snarled. _He must be scampering back to Coast Cave by now._ _I'll show him._ He wasn't sure what use his pokémon were against a wielder, but he wasn't thinking straight anymore. Cassius adjusted the tan calotte on his head before hurrying after that self-important pet that Dennison was rearing.

- x x x -

Wade heard the agitated hollers from inside the yellow and red striped tent. With his ears catching phrases like, "—Sleep Powder again—", "—a boy, really thin—", "—where's the prize money—?", and "—after the boy—!", he swallowed and considered what to do.

Guido couldn't have gone far. Although haphazardly looking for the skeletal sixteen-year old offered a slim chance of finding him, Wade had no choice but to grasp tightly at that slim chance. Jogging back into the crowds, he let his eyes roam.

Wade wondered if he would encounter Skye here. His mouth thinned at the possibility of such an awkward meeting. What would Skye do if they saw each other? Would he ignore him and continue to look for Guido? Or would he renew the arguments from last night? Knowing Skye, though, Wade supposed that he'd doggedly pursue the former.

Besides, their disputes could wait. Especially with this kind of development. The prize money for Beam Tournament had been snatched, so he was sure that the police would be in pursuit, as well. There was no way he'd allow Guido to be apprehended without a few answers, first.

Was he really glad that the Clan wasn't involved this time? It was a stupid thing to ask, really. Wade still stung from this particular comment from Skye. Besides, what idiot was delighted at the prospect of a friend gadding about the Fair while plucking the prize money from the various competitions?

Clan involvement or not, he knew that one thing was for sure. He'd better get a move-on if he was going to reach Guido before the police did.

- x x x -

Cassius muttered incomprehensively under his breath. He took in the masses of trainers, pokémon, tourists, shops, and was reminded of the proverbial needle in a haystack. How was he going to find that brat? He considered using his pokémon, but what good were a couple of clueless Wooper and a hulking Wailmer going to do? Though using the latter to bulldoze his way through these annoying hordes suddenly seemed like a wonderful idea…

And then he slammed into a wall and fell on his rump. Dazed, he blinked and tried to recollect his bearings. He saw a brown-haired youth with deep violet eyes and an incongruous set of earrings on his right ear just in front of him. The boy was on his rear, as well, and he was rubbing his elbow with a grimace.

"Now look what you did, you klutz!" Cassius gnarled. Why were there so many offensive upstarts in this world? Itching to whap his fishing rod at him, he glared at the youth. "Bad enough that I can't find who I'm looking for, and you just have to… to…"

As the boy muttered a perfunctory apology, Cassius frowned. Hazy familiarity nagged him from the back of his mind. Who was this boy?

The first time he thought about it, he abruptly remembered that the youth worked at that pokémart. The one where he'd bought those Mystic Water for his idiot pokémon.

But the second time he thought about it…

The teen quickly moved off, but Cassius grabbed his black tank top and stubbornly tugged.

"I don't have time—" the boy snapped.

"Hold your Ponyta, boy." _I know who you are, now_. Cassius could not prevent the smirk twisting his lips. The youth glowered at him. _You'll be frowning a lot more when you find out what plan I have in store for you, little Wade._ "I was chasing a kid who snatched my wallet."

"So talk to the police!"

"They'll need all the help they can get to track this thief," Cassius answered smoothly. "C'mon, boy. It's the least you can do for running right over me. The culprit's really skinny, with unruly hair and round green earrings. He's wearing a moldy-green vest, oversized khaki shorts, and battered old slippers. If I remember right there are four pokéballs strapped to his belt. I'm not sure what his pokémon are, but I know that he has a Ledian and Kricketune."

Before Cassius could threaten him that he'd frame him if he didn't help, he saw stunned recognition register in the other's face. Cassius could have crowed. This was just getting better and better, it seemed. So Wade knew Guido. He didn't really care how or why, so long as Wade joined the hunt for that garden wielder.

"Which way did he go?" the boy asked faintly.

"That-a-way," Cassius obligingly replied as he pointed a bony finger in the direction leading to Ebony Town. Without wasting another breath, the teen nodded and ran. And that was when Cassius allowed himself a full-hearted cackle.

_I'll laugh myself silly if Quodo's own son becomes the Clan's undoing! Thank goodness I'm leaving those fools!_

- x x x -

Daith's forehead furrowed as he weaved in and out of Beam Tournament battles, referees, and Fair visitors—not to mention the occasional Water Gun, Gust, and Ember attack. The sun was beginning to get oppressive, and he was starting to regret not wearing a short-sleeved shirt. If he weren't frantically following his brother right now, he'd be tempted to get an ice cream cone, just like those girls that he had passed by a few seconds ago.

He was near the border of Ebony now. Angular buildings came into view, and in between them flowed rivers of tourists, pokémon performers, and trainers. He was relieved that the cacophony from town was less intense compared to the one at the Beam Ground, since there were no explosions, overexcited trainers, and rampaging, battling pokémon to contend with.

Daith frowned. He wasn't sure, but… Was that boy following his brother? He seemed familiar, somehow… Brown hair, huggy earrings on the right ear, wiry build… Where had he seen him before…?

His memory clicked into place. The pokémart.

Something didn't feel right about this. Was he a friend of Guido? If he had wanted something from his brother, he should have yelled by now to get his attention. So why hadn't he?

_Does he know something about those goons? Or maybe… He's one of them himself? Seems unlikely…_

[It'll be hard leaving loose ends, Daith,] Arbok abruptly said in his mind. [If you think he's a danger to your brother, then just trust your instincts.]

Daith's lips thinned. He could go after his brother later; besides, now that he'd found him, doing so again wouldn't be difficult.

He'd better take care of this boy, first.

- x x x -

"Out of the way, out of the way, you ignorant boobies!"

Squeaks and shrieks popped up around her, but Agnes barely gave a hoot. She remained clinging to her Lunatone, a solid crescent-shaped rock with discomfiting red eyes and a protrusion at the concavity of its hemispherical face that could be perceived as its nose. The Rock-Psychic pokémon hovered like a fast, futuristic vehicle above astonished trainers.

So much for her dreams of winning the Beam Tournament. She had been promptly shown her place by a middle-aged woman who had devastated her armada of psychics by a fire-breathing canine with curved horns on its head, not to mention ghastly ribs clinging to its body. Dreadful thing, that pokémon, and she was not familiar with it at all.

But as luck would have it, while having her pokémon healed at one of the numerous nurse stations scattered about the Beam Ground, she saw that stuck-up boy with serious violet eyes dashing after something. A short distance behind him, another man wearing ruby-red earrings, a purple shirt, and blue jeans seemed to be following—or at least, that was what her sixth sense was telling her. After all, in a place that was a jam-packed with people like this, it wasn't easy to determine if one person was indeed hot in the tracks of another.

But ol' Agnes was psychic, that much she was sure of, and when her gut told her something, she always heeded. Which was why she was clinging onto Pointy the Lunatone, in close pursuit of those suspicious youngsters.

"There's always a risk when you dig deeper into a nest," she mumbled. "Who knows what's going to bite?" She smirked. "But then, who knows what's going to come out when you bide your time?"

With a cackle and brandish of her cane, she sped towards Ebony.

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_And the chase is on! I hope I'm able to make the encounter as explosive as I can._


	24. Chapter 23

Author's Notes  
_Aaaand here's Chapter 23! It took me a number of revisions before I got satisfied with it. Tell me what you think once you're done reading, mkay? :D_

_I don't own Pokemon. For my Christmas present, I want a third installation in the 5th generation. It doesn't have to come by Christmas, so long as it arrives some time in the future. Having move expansions and move tutors is going to be **such** a relief._

- x x x -**  
**

**CHAPTER 2****3**

With his chest heaving and his body demanding rest, Guido reached the perimeter of Ebony Town and almost crashed into a tin garbage can standing beside the back of some restaurant. But that didn't prevent him from accidentally hitting his foot on it and sending it rolling down the alleyway. Making sure that no one would see, he immediately used his telekinesis and vaulted to the rooftop. He flung Ledian's pokéball while running and hopping across roofs. The Bug-Flying pokémon materialized in a flash of red light and flew by his side.

He stole a glance behind him. Skye was still there.

"Guido, wait—!"

[Jumpluff, help me out.] Guido took hold of the Grass-Flying pokémon's techniques and released a Sleep Powder from his hand. The green powder snaked towards his pursuer. [Skye, I'm so sorry…]

A sudden gust of wind blew from behind him and scattered his powder. Startled, he snuck another quick look behind him and saw that Skye had whirling columns of wind in each of his outstretched hand. His own Ledian fluttered behind him.

_This isn't good…_ He shivered as Dennison caressed his mind. _I can't shake him off, so I'll have to confront him. Why did it have to come to this?_

He stopped and faced his friend. With his hands on his knees, he gulped in long breaths as he tried to steady his sizzling nerves.

"I knew it."

Guido swallowed and stepped back. What…?

"Wade had been right all along," Skye began. "Something _is_ wrong with you.

"Who is he, Daith? What did he do to you?"

Guido felt that Dennison's interest was piqued. His hands shook. No. Whatever happened, he simply could _not_ involve Skye in that schemer's plots.

"Ledian," Guido said, "Air Cutter!"

"No, Guido!"

- x x x -

Wade was almost there. Just a few more steps, and he'd be inside Ebony. He had finally spotted Guido, and there was no way he was letting him out of his sight now. Guido suddenly veered towards a back alley. Wade heard a clatter; probably a garbage bin or something.

"Guido!"

Wade almost tripped. That had been Skye! His head jerked to the source of that call, and true enough, he saw the idiot shouldering past a group of teens watching a side-street performance of a Mr. Mime; he was heading for the back alley that Guido had fled into. Undeterred by Skye's sudden appearance and all the possible uncomfortable moments that came with it, he tailed him and dashed into the alley.

There was no one there, except—

"You!" The man who had returned Skye's wallet! "… Daith, was it?"

Daith gazed at him impassively. He raised his hand toward him, and started to speak. Wade felt something clamp on his mind.

"You will forget about this encounter…"

Something cold dropped into his stomach. _Mind control—!_

"You will forget about this chase…"

His self-hold on his mental capacities slipped away like water into a drain. A calm blackness swathed him, and he felt himself going limp and nodding.

[Wade!] Umbreon screeched into his mind.

[This man's dangerous!] Gyarados bellowed. [Let me at him!]

Wade jolted back to his senses. He slammed his shoulder onto the brick wall of one of the buildings for good measure. The pain joggled his sluggish mind. Heaving deep pants, he telekinetically pushed himself up and onto a rooftop. He clutched Gyarados's pokéball and threw it high in the air. Still gasping for breath, he felt a serpentine shadow wrap itself protectively around him.

[He's here.] Gyarados rumbled threateningly.

Wade looked up. Daith was indeed on the rooftop with him, just a few meters in front. The man tossed a pokéball in the air. Another serpentine pokémon emerged on the battlefield, but this one was violet and had menacing markings on its head. It hissed then bared its fangs.

Fishing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it, Daith studied him quietly. "What are you? It's not every day that I see someone who can escape my mind control. And why are you chasing Guido?" He placed a hand on the Poison pokémon's head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let you get close to him.

"Arbok, Coil."

- x x x -

Panting, Guido slashed at the Gust attacks with his hands, which had glowing yellow blades of energy in imitation of a Fury Cutter. His Ledian had fallen, and right now he was barely clinging onto the battle with his Jumpluff. He hopped back, lost his footing from the edge of the rooftop, and nearly fell down the street.

"Jumpluff," he said, "Sleep Powder!"

Skye abruptly had an item in hand, and though his own Jumpluff had taken the debilitating dust, the blonde immediately applied the Awakening. Must be an advantage of working in a pokémart, having all those items at one's disposal.

"Jumpluff," Skye said, "Aerial Ace!"

"Same, Jumpluff!" Guido called.

The two Grass-Flying pokémon flew at each other. After colliding, both pokémon squeaked and bounced on the ground, stunned.

"Guido, let's stop this," Skye pleaded. "I don't want to do this. Please let me help you!"

Guido smiled sadly. "I can't involve you in this, Skye." _Because if I do, you'll get hurt, and they might kill my father._

[That's what I like about you, boy,] Dennison said through the mind link. The bastard sounded amused. [You're very goal-directed. I'm glad I decided to use you for this little Consable project.]

Guido gritted his teeth. "Jumpluff, Sleep Powder!"

"Intercept that with an Aerial Ace!"

Before Guido's pokémon could release the Grass technique, Skye's Jumpluff smashed into it, causing it to faint. In another desperate attempt to tip the scales, Guido focused and tried to drain Skye's energy with an Absorb. He stretched his hand toward the other, but was only partially successful in weakening Skye. When the blonde realized what kind of attack was aimed at him, he swiftly fired another barrage of gusts.

Guido screamed as the air currents snatched him off his feet and hurled him towards the adjacent rooftop. With the wind knocked out of his lungs and his vision blurring, he almost slid into unconsciousness.

Dennison's mental monitoring system in his mind suddenly faltered.

- x x x -

"Where are those boys?" Agnes mumbled.

"Look, Ma, it's a floating grandma," she heard an innocent kid comment.

Agnes ignored the gasps and cries from around her. She tightened her hold on Pointy the Lunatone as the Rock-Psychic pokémon whizzed through the air, above the heads of amazed tourists—not to mention the occasional nincompoop hollering out to her for a battle. Booths and buildings scattered on both her left and right sides, and she vaguely wondered if those boys had brought their Meowth-and-Rattata game indoors.

Then she heard a scream.

Her forehead furrowed. She looked up. _The roofs?_

- x x x -

Wade's shock lasted only a few seconds. Heat engulfed his chest and coursed throughout his body. His fist clenched.

"Gyarados, Dragon Dance!"

The Water-Flying behemoth lifted itself from around Wade and twisted in the air in a flurry of intense reds and royal blues. But before Wade could utter another command at his pokémon—

"We can't have that. Glare, Arbok."

Something in the air changed. Wade stared at Gyarados. Its movements suddenly became twitchy and uncoordinated, and a faint yellow light crackled throughout its body. Before he could process that his pokémon had been paralyzed, Daith had already issued the next command.

"Gunk Shot."

Wade staggered back. "Gyarados, Aqua Tail!"

Arbok opened its mouth and blasted a stinking collection of filth and slime from its mouth. Still encumbered by paralysis, Gyarados had no choice but to receive the Poison attack. It hung on to what little health it had, though, and promptly retaliated with a slap of its tail, flinging Arbok back. The snake slithered back up, hissed ferally, and reared its head in an impressive display of its hood pattern.

_He's good…_ Wade ran to Gyarados's side and inspected its injuries. The Water-Flying pokémon seemed ready to collapse. He wondered what that Coil thing had done to that Arbok.

With his cigarette ensconced between the second and third fingers of his right hand, Daith seemed to be scrutinizing him, as well. "You're no ordinary trainer for your Gyarados to have survived a boosted Gunk Shot from my ace pokémon. Though I suppose it's not exactly boosted since a Gyarados's ability is Intimidate."

Dumbfounded, Wade could only stare. Forget good; this guy seemed like a horrendously excellent battler. Fortunately for him, the slow-twins gave him a type advantage with this thing, and he wondered if he should leave Gyarados in the fray or switch to Slowbro or Slowking… But what if he had an entire six pokémon in his arsenal? And all as powerful as that Arbok? He was no longer sure if persisting in this fight was prudent.

"Why are you so determined to hound Guido?" Daith asked again. He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out. Wade's nose picked up faint traces of the smoke, which grated at his nerves. "The Consable Clan will be moving soon, and I can't afford any distractions—"

… Consable Clan…

Something inside Wade snapped. The anger that had been plaguing him during the entirety of this battle roared into full-blown fury.

"Gyarados," Wade snarled, "destroy that thing with another Aqua Tail!"

Gyarados's body spasmed from the effect of paralysis before lunging at the Poison pokémon. But Arbok was faster; it had fired another Gunk Shot, which immediately brought his Water-Flying pokémon down. The roof shook from the giant pokémon's weight, but Wade didn't care. He rapidly recalled Gyarados, but before he could bring out his next pokémon, Daith was already jumping to a higher rooftop. Growling, Wade followed, and as soon as he got his foot on the concrete landing he released Slowbro.

"Hit it with a Psychic!" barked Wade. The roaring in his ears seemed to drown out the thunderous beating of his heart.

Daith suddenly brought his cigarette up, and what happened nearly doused all of Wade's anger. A bright purple powder snaked out from the butt and spiraled towards Slowbro. At the same time, Arbok fired another Gunk Shot, which managed to deplete most of the Water-Psychic pokémon's energy.

The air around the Poison pokémon undulated like the surface of a serene lake disturbed by a pebble. The Psychic attack had hit, and that brought an end to Arbok's rampage.

Glancing at Slowbro, Wade quickly recognized that his pokémon had been poisoned. By the Gunk Shot…? Or by that bizarre powder that had emerged from Daith's cigarette…? How had he done that? If that cigarette contained some noxious material, shouldn't Daith also be affected? What in the world was going on?

A scream suddenly pierced the air. Daith's head snapped toward the direction of its source. He looked visibly shaken. Ignoring the status effect inflicted on Slowbro, Wade seized his chance and ordered another Psychic attack so that Daith would be forced to release another pokémon. But the man was only startled for a moment; he hurled another pokéball and brought out a gaseous being with malevolent red eyes and a maniacal grin. It held a weird stone in one of its ghostly hands.

"Gengar, Shadow Ball!"

The Ghost-Poison pokémon's attack went first. A vaporous dark-colored sphere soared in the air and consumed his Water-Psychic pokémon. Slowbro fell with a sigh.

Wade refused to yield to the cold needles piercing his lungs with each inhalation and the crawling sensation on his cold skin. He hurled Umbreon's pokéball. The Dark pokémon appeared and looked worriedly at its trainer.

"Dark Pulse!"

"Sludge Bomb!"

Gengar formed a ball of purple goo in its hands and promptly flung it at Umbreon, who failed to evade it. The Poison attack splattered on the Dark pokémon.

[Wade!] Umbreon frantically called. [I can't do my Dark Pulse! That Sludge Bomb was strange!]

But he wasn't listening. He suddenly recognized the item that Gengar was holding. It was a King's Rock! Probably the one that Daith had bought at the pokémart.

"Sludge Bomb again, Gengar."

With gritted teeth, Wade ordered another Dark Pulse, but it was in vain. The ball of sludge crashed into Umbreon, and it immediately lost consciousness. Snarling, he let loose the final pokémon he planned to use for this battle.

- x x x -

"_Of course, if you get yourself stampeded on or beat up by a mob for being caught, then I leave your mind. I will monitor your every action, but that doesn't mean that I will have to endure such stupidity, now does it?"_

Guido's eyes blinked open. Those words from his previous conversation with Dennison at Coast Cave resounded in his mind.

And then he had a plan.

Quivering—from worry, fear, body aches, and exhaustion—he pushed himself up with his arms. He brought out Jumpluff's pokéball and recalled the fainted pokémon. He then released Ludicolo, a pineapple-shaped masked pokémon with a festive headdress and just as festive an attitude. Though right now the Water-Grass pokémon didn't seem jolly at all; it looked ready to smash something. Guido shifted his attention to Skye and was mildly surprised when he saw tears on his friend's eyes.

"Guido, I'm so, so sorry…"

He offered the other another sad smile. "This isn't going to stop until one of us is down, Skye."

"Why?" he shouted. "Who decided that it had to be that way? Was it him? The guy who has you in his hold?"

"Ludicolo, Hydro Pump!"

His pokémon stretched out one of its green arms and launched a vigorous torrent of water. At Skye's hesitant command, Jumpluff released a volley of explosive seeds. The Seed Bomb hit its mark, but Ludicolo's Hydro Pump didn't waver. It slammed into the Grass-Flying pokémon and extinguished the last of its strength.

"Ludicolo's my strongest pokémon," Guido said softly. He raised his arms and prepared to drain Skye's energy again with Absorb. "You'll have to go all-out at me if you plan to bring me down."

"I am _not_ bringing you down!"

Guido began his Absorb attack. Skye grunted and fell to one knee, then quickly released his next pokémon: his Pidgeot. The regal bird with an imposing red and yellow crest took flight and hovered above its trainer. Ludicolo let loose another Hydro Pump, but Pidgeot managed to evade it. The Normal-Flying pokémon suddenly dived and hurtled towards Ludicolo with its wings outstretched. Not to be outdone, Guido hurled a volley of Leech Seeds at the assaulting pokémon. The seeds sprouted and quickly began draining energy, but that unfortunately did not stop Pidgeot from slapping Ludicolo with a Wing Attack. The type disadvantage said it all, and his pokémon fell.

Without missing a beat, Guido released another wave of Sleep Powder. Afterward, he added an Absorb for good measure and directed it at Skye.

"No!"

The winds rose again. Guido welcomed the cutting Gusts. Like a broken rag doll, he was tossed in the air. He crashed onto an adjacent concrete building top. Pain forced a scream to claw its way out of his throat.

Then he fell into darkness.

- x x x -

Wade paled as Slowking fell to Gengar's onslaught. He fell on his knees and stared at his fallen Water-Psychic pokémon. His hands were still cold.

He should have seen this coming. Daith's pokémon were just too powerful. Seeing his Arbok should have been enough to tell him that his own pokémon were no match for the other's. What was he thinking, persisting in a futile battle?

He stared at his shaking hands. He had been so angry, so consumed with fury that he had forgotten everything else. Logic should have dictated that he first find out Daith's connection with Guido or the Clan. But he had thrown logic to the winds and let his emotions get the best of him. For this mistake, his pokémon had paid the price.

Another scream erupted into the air. Daith's face lost its color. The man immediately recalled his pokémon and headed for the source of that scream. Wade realized that it had probably been Guido.

The thought of facing his pokémon after this humiliating battle weighed heavier than a Wailmer. Maybe even a Wailord. How would Horsea, Sneasel, and the other young ones feel when they found out that their trainer was an unpredictable roller coaster ride of tempers?

[Follow him.] Umbreon's faint voice in his mind temporarily kicked him out of his glum thoughts. With a numb nod, he recalled Slowking and listlessly followed Daith across the rooftops.

- x x x -

Daith's breath caught in his throat as he saw the fallen form of his brother. With a stronger telekinetic push he bounded the remaining distance to Guido and stared. His hands clenched intro trembling fists. His breathing returned, but at a heightened pace. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Guido!"

Daith stared at the owner of that voice. He saw the boy who was with his brother in that picture back at Ochre Village. The pokémart boy who had given him the discount. He looked distraught, with tears in his eyes. He was approaching them at an alarmingly quick rate.

"You did this?"

The boy stopped and seemed unsure about what to make of him. "It's… It's you. The one who bought those Full Heals and the King's Rock. Listen, I—"

The air hummed with immense power. Daith felt his hair thrash. He knew his eyes were glowing. He faced the foolish boy who dared to do this to his younger brother.

Small violet spheres materialized in the air around him, balls that coalesced and formed deadly whipping tendrils of venom that whirled in wide arcs around his body. The power coursing through him felt wonderful, the perfect tool to bury this beast.

Without warning, the spinning ribbons of sludge soared towards the blonde boy.

- x x x -

Wade didn't think.

He had no time to, anyway.

He screamed his older brother's name and lunged towards him.

As he tackled Skye out of harm's way, he felt a few tendrils of poison whip his body. Pain exploded in his left eye.

More cries crammed into the air, the sound assailing his ears.

He fell on the rooftop with a repulsive thud. The agony stole his breath and senses.

The last thing he saw was Skye's wide blue eyes. Then merciful darkness claimed him.

- x x x -

Riding Briarby the Xatu up to the roofs—and ignoring the silly bird's protesting trills—Agnes used her heels to dig into the Psychic-Flying pokémon's feathery body. She had more spectators now, and awed cheers, impressed whistles, and admonishing clucks bombarded her from below. Luckily, no sign of any police officers were around yet.

"Get a move on, you loon! How are we supposed to get to where all the action is if you're going to wheeze your way to it?"

After a few more harassed flaps, Briarby finally reached the top. And what Agnes saw nearly gave her a heart attack.

- x x x -

Dennison shook his head as he completely lost his psychic hold on that boy. He breathed in the earthy scent and humidity of the deepest recesses of Coast Cave and stood up from the chair he used whenever he needed to monitor Guido Redspike. His Alakazam, a gaunt creature with a conspicuous moustache on its face, followed him silently. Dennison clasped one of the candles on the table that served to illuminate the murkiness of the underground and carried it with him.

An earthquake rumbled throughout the cavern. It only lasted a few seconds, but he still frowned. These tremors were getting too frequent for his taste, and it was probably due to all the digging that the Clan was doing in order to facilitate the construction of the underground harbor that would house the ships they would use to escape. It was all the more reason to expedite its completion, he supposed. While walking, he considered speaking to the men again about hurrying the preparations, but then decided against it. It was, after all, time for his usual amusement.

After a few more steps, the dim light from the melting candle allowed him to see the man he wanted to speak to. Mr. Redspike lay tied on the mat that Guido had brought from their house in Ochre. Taking his time, he sat on his haunches and observed his captive. When Mr. Redspike remained silent, Dennison sighed.

"Too bad, Mr. Redspike. I've lost contact with your son. He seems to have been detected by some trainers and engaged in a battle with them. I've watched the entire thing, of course, and during the battle I was rudely booted out from his mind when he got lethally injured." He paused to let the words sink in. He heard Mr. Redspike's loud, ragged intake of breath. Then he drove the final words home.

"It seems he's dead."

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_Don't you wish that there was some food that could jumpstart your creative juices so you can get to writing the next chappie? Or maybe I just have to deal with my procrastination. xD Anyway, better get typing!_


	25. Chapter 24

Author's Notes  
_Writing this chapter made me squirm in my seat. A lot. I'm not really comfortable with people arguing and screaming bloody murder, especially people I know. I mean, yes, they're just characters, but still._

_On the other hand, this is one of the ways through which we raise the emotional stakes, and besides, what's a story without a character suffering and without good ol' conflict? Hee._

_I don't own Pokémon. nomékoP nwo t'nod I (yes, I believe I must get a life)._

- x x x -**  
**

**CHAPTER 24**

He floated in the dark, flitting between troubled slumber and hazy wakefulness. At first the pain accompanied him whenever he momentarily surfaced to consciousness. His left eye throbbed like hot coals. But he was suddenly wrapped in lightness, like being surrounded by fluffy feathers that somehow reduced his aches to the level of a mosquito bite. Sometimes he heard words…

"Stay away from my brother!" Was that Skye? Why was he so angry?

"I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

His body still refused to wake up. Feeling that someone had him tightly wrapped in a protective embrace, he idly wondered who it was.

"… have to bring Guido to a safe place…"

Guido…? Had he been caught? Maybe Skye was talking to him. Figured that the birdbrain would be the first to reach him.

"… alright, you madcap morons, the first order of business is bringing the injured to a safe place…"

Why did he dread that voice so much?

He wasn't sure how many eternities passed by. Now that the pain wasn't as intense as it used to be, he felt more and more drawn into the peaceful darkness. At one point he heard that voice he feared squawk something like, "Kyogre's keister, they're springing about like Spoink!" and "Let me go! I'd rather ride Pointy!" Whoever this lady was, she was annoyingly loud.

Wade wasn't sure how long it was before he opened his eyes. When he did, he found himself in an unfamiliar bedroom with a moss-green ceiling and walls. He tilted his head a little forward and saw square windows veiled in olive-colored curtains. On the left-hand wall was an air-conditioner, which explained the comfortably cool temperature. Shifting in the bed—which was plushier than his own back at the pokémart—he was mildly surprised to have a blanket up to his bare chest.

Surprise transformed into alarm as he realized that he was taking in his surroundings through one eye only. Gingerly placing his fingers over where his left eye was supposed to be, Wade swallowed. So there was a bandage wrapped around the left side of his face and around his forehead, with his ear obtrusively sticking out…

[Are you alright?]

He froze. He was afraid to face that voice. Whatever answer he had in mind got trapped as a lump in his throat. His fist clenched, and he let himself settle like dead weight on the plushy bed.

[I'd define "alright" if I were you, Slowbro,] Umbreon said. [Something's eating at our trainer…]

[Eat?] Horsea suddenly piped up. [Great! I'm starving!]

There was an awkward silence.

A smile that did not touch his eyes alighted on his lips. Wade burrowed further into the blanket. [Go ahead and make fun of me. I deserve it.]

[I don't get it when he's like this,] Gyarados muttered in his mind.

[One could spend an entire lifetime trying to fathom the intricacies of human existence,] Slowking sagely said to no one in particular.

[But that would not be enough time to glean an answer,] Slowbro finished.

[You guys _are_ making fun of me,] said Wade, trying to sound offended, but realized too late that he was doing a poor job of doing so.

[That's because we don't get why you're like this,] Umbreon flatly replied. [Actually, we have a vague idea what this rut's all about, but we're not going to give you the luxury of having understanding, obedient pokémon and say right-out that "Everything's dandy, no need to worry."]

Wade's fake smile left him. [I… I understand. It's… your right to be angry.]

[You bet I'm angry,] Umbreon said coolly. [But not for the reason that you think. Never for the reason in that stubborn head of yours. But I can find it in myself to forgive you if you can stop for a while to realize what in the world I'm hinting at.]

Wade remained silent. He could never dare to consider what Umbreon was insinuating…

Couldn't he?

[Okay, you're forgiven,] Umbreon said out of the blue. Wade didn't get the Dark pokémon at all; why was its mood suddenly so mercurial? He heard Umbreon sigh in his head. [Listen, Wade. We're a team. Maybe you lost your temper when Daith said the magic words. Maybe you think we suffered a mortifying defeat at the hands of that Poison wielder. So you think it's your fault. Maybe it is.] Wade flinched but didn't interrupt. [But to us, that doesn't matter. I'm just happy that you cared enough to consider your pokémon's feelings after this entire debacle. Humans and pokémon weren't meant to be perfect, and we all make mistakes. But at least we make them together. It makes growing from them together all the more fun.]

[You need to have a little more faith in yourself, and in us,] Slowbro added.

Wade laughed mirthlessly. Now _this_ was embarrassing. Hearing the same words Skye had told him from his own pokémon.

[And there we have Mommy Umbreon's advice,] Gyarados cracked. [For more heartwarming guidance, do feel free to remain down in the dumps so you can be pummeled with more sap.]

[Shut up, you overgrown worm.]

[What was that, you little inkblot? This "overgrown worm" can squash you flat with a single Aqua Tail!]

Wade almost smiled as the two continued to bicker. Contentment only lasted a few seconds though, since he realized that it was about time he found out where in the world he was. He tried to prop himself up using his elbows, but the world suddenly decided to whirl around him, and he fell back on the mattress.

The door on the right-hand wall abruptly burst open, and in came an agitated Skye, who strode to the bed without seeming to realize that Wade was already awake.

"I appreciate your patching him up the first time," Skye was saying heatedly. "But no way are you touching him again." Blankly staring at the other's back, Wade wondered who he was arguing with and what the argument was all about. "You did this to him in the first place."

"I guess you'll still be angry at me no matter how many times I apologize," he heard Daith tentatively say. Wade blinked as he spotted a first-aid kit in the man's hands. "But I really am sorry. I didn't know that Guido was intentionally getting injured so that that Clan psychic would be kicked out of his head. I… I just snapped when I saw him on the ground like that. If… If I may make an observation, you're reaction is very similar to mine when you saw _your_ younger brother get hurt. Please understand..."

The gears in Wade's mind were madly ticking. _Younger__… __brother__…__?_

_So __Guido__ and__ Daith_ were_ brothers._

"How did you know what was going on in Guido's head, anyway?" Skye asked, still in that irritable tone. Wade remained speechless at the blonde's ornery attitude; he had never seen this kind of intensity coming from him before.

Wait. Scratch that. There was that fight last night in their bedroom…

Daith offered the tiniest of smiles, but Wade noticed that his hands had tightened around the first-aid kit. "It's my specialty as a psychic. Retrocognition. I'm sensitive to events and thoughts that occurred in the past. Plus, Guido's my brother, so I found it easier to be receptive to what his mind was thinking." After fiddling with the handle of the kit, he then said, "I'd really like to take a look at your brother's condition now. Even with… what you did… I'm not sure what the effects of a Sludge attack going into the eye would do."

Wade decided that playing spectator needed to end. "What _did_ you do, featherbrain? Because is it just me, or have my wounds just vanished into thin air?"

Skye whirled around. His eyes grew as round and big as saucers, and his jaw dropped.

"I remember those weird tendrils, as purple as that guy's Arbok," Wade continued with a finger at Daith. "Don't tell me you used your Flying wielder powers or something."

Skye seemed at a loss for words. For some odd reason, the moron looked ready to cry. This was the perfect opportunity for his newly-acquired Qwilfish: Wade would cheerfully chuck the Water-Poison pokémon at the other if the idiot _dared_ to shed a single tear.

"I… Wade…"

"Who wants some tea?" an old-lady-like voice suddenly exclaimed into the room. If Wade didn't feel as weak as a newborn Pidgey he'd have jumped at the intrusion. Daith simply turned his head towards the source and sighed.

Oblivious to the awkward silence that had greeted her enthusiastic yell, Agnes Bittlebee sauntered into the room with a tray in her hands and with her Xatu trailing behind. The old lady had just as weird an outfit as the first time Wade saw her. Her headgear this time was a pink knitted bonnet that still didn't look good with her black earrings. She still sported that oversized brown leather jacket, not to mention that horrendous cane with the hideous laughing face and the four pokéballs. A tan-colored skirt nearly touched the carpeted floor and almost concealed her black leather boots.

"Ooh, he's awake!" The hag plopped the tray onto the tabletop beside the bed and leveled a look at him. Wade cringed as traces of her herby halitosis assaulted his nose. Agnes suddenly rapped her cane on his arm and chuckled. "They make teen boys these days with good materials, huh? Don't break down that easily. Guido's doing fine, too. They're strapping, strong lads, these are." She suddenly directed her deadly cane at Skye, who received a light tap on his leg. "You'd better let Mr. Poison here take a look at him. It's your conscience on the line if his eyesight gets worse because it didn't get checked out."

Skye stared at Daith for so long that Wade was surprised he didn't have holes in him yet. Daith met that scrutiny head-on, but with no aggression or malice.

"I'm going to check on Guido," Skye muttered before quietly leaving the room.

"And now that your tea's here," Agnes said with a rap of her cane on the floor, "I'll just be going, then. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your heart-to-heart." Was it just Wade's imagination, or did he hear incorrigible mischief in the hag's voice? The witch ambled out and left the door slightly ajar.

"Do you mind if I sit?" Daith asked.

Wade sullenly refused to answer. Instead, he focused on staring at the first-aid kit.

"Before anything else," Daith started as he sat down on the side of the bed, "I'd just like to say that I'm really sorry for that attack. I was… staggered by Guido not moving on the floor, and I thought he was…" Daith drew in a ragged breath before flipping the kit open. "Is it alright if I examine your body for any wounds?" He took Wade's silence and his lack of resistance as an affirmative and proceeded to inspect his arms and torso.

"We're currently at a hotel in Ebony," Daith continued unhurriedly. Wade had a feeling that the other wasn't expecting any response from him, and he was all too willing to oblige this unspoken agreement. "Before coming back here, I called reception to request for a transfer of room to something that's better suited to accommodating guests. Guido's sleeping in an adjacent room.

"I guess you know now that he's my brother. Though to tell the truth, I didn't know about his involvement with a crime syndicate until recently. I just knew that something was wrong when he contacted me and provided carefully laid details about this crazy psychic and how he set up shop in my brother's mind."

Wade kept his mouth shut with gritted teeth as Daith pushed the blanket aside and moved on to his lower extremities.

"Is it alright if I asked why you were following Guido?" Despite Daith's earnest question, Wade resolved to maintain a rebellious silence. After a minute of no one speaking, the other continued his one-sided chat. "It's amazing what Skye did with your wounds. There are faint remnants of injuries such as small scars, but otherwise you look perfectly healthy. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if you feel exhausted."

"He used his Flying wielder powers, huh?"

Daith looked pleasantly surprised that he had begun to participate in the conversation. "He held you close. Then wings just sprouted out from his back. He looked like a divine being. Then the wings dissolved into a shower of feathers that wrapped around you both. It looked so similar to what bird pokémon do to heal their injuries. Roost, I think?"

That must have been what he had felt during that time, when the pain was lifted away. It seemed that the amount of things that he needed to talk about with Skye was reaching monumental proportions, higher than a skyscraper and deeper than an iceberg.

"You're a wielder, too, aren't you?"

Daith paused before answering with a nod. Everyone in this hotel suite probably knew about it, which was why the hag had addressed Daith as "Mr. Poison."

"A wielder, huh? Like Guido. And Skye. But not me; I'm just psychic. I can't use any weird pokémon powers."

"This wielder stuff must be weird to you," Daith said for lack of anything else to say. After a while, he asked, "Is it alright if I took a look at your eye?"

"You don't have to," Wade quickly replied. He hadn't intended to sound so rough. "It's fine."

"But—"

"I said it's fine. I'll be able to see just okay; I'm sure of it."

The disapproving silence that all his pokémon directed at him—including his new ones like Horsea and Sneasel!—grew more onerous by the second. Wade didn't care; this man wasn't going to touch his eye, and that was that.

Daith studied him quietly before slowly nodding. He took a few measured steps towards the door, then said, "I'm really glad you didn't mind me checking you for any more serious injuries. I… I really am sorry for what happened." Wade saw Daith's hand clench tighter on the handle of the first-aid kit. "If there's anything I can do to make amends…"

Wade averted his eyes and looked out the window. A few scattered rays of sunlight tried to get in, but they were no match for the thick curtains or the artificial cool of the air-conditioner.

A number of questions buzzed at the back of his mind. If Daith was indeed Guido's brother, then why was he at a hotel? Even though Ochre Village was a few more kilometers to the south, shouldn't home—in the company of his parents, friends, and anyone and anything else familiar—still be a better option than spending money for lodging? Or maybe Daith wanted to be closer to the Pokémon Fair; that would certainly account for this temporary residence.

He wondered how high up they were. If they were anything above the tenth floor, then this might probably be the Seaside Hotel, a tall building near the beach. If he remembered correctly the place was rather pricey, and this led him to another question.

How could Daith afford all this? Wade was fully aware that Guido's family was not well off, so why the discrepancy in social status with the elder brother?

"… Just call if you need something," Daith was saying. His hand was about to clutch the doorknob when the door opened to reveal Skye.

"Guido's awake."

Daith lost no time. Almost dropping the first-aid kit, he rushed out the room, leaving Wade and Skye to stare at each other. It was Skye who first averted his gaze.

Wade swallowed. There were myriad things that he wanted to talk to him about, right? So here the featherhead was. Why couldn't he get a single stupid word out?

Wait. Why was Wade here in the first place, again? He had been chasing Guido so he could find out what in the world was going on. Daith had already mentioned that the thin youth had tried to get Skye to injure him so that some kooky psychic would get kicked out of his head. Said kooky psychic also happened to be a member of the Consable Clan.

He frowned. "Magic word," indeed, as Umbreon had put it. Those criminals again. He should have known he'd never be able to escape. They seemed so ubiquitous that they pervaded all aspects of his life.

As for this psychic… He knew of only one individual in the Clan who fitted that description. Mama had feared him a lot and had made sure that she and her son had minimized all contact with him as much as they could. After all, who wanted to spend time with a devil who could ensconce himself in one's mind so he could peer in that person's fears, insecurities, and weaknesses and use them for his sadistic pastimes? The fact that the fiend had an Alakazam to aid him in his machinations didn't help at all.

The tête-à-tête with Skye could wait. There were far more important things to attend to, now that he was sure that the Clan was involved.

"Help me up."

A pause. Then Skye walked into the room. "Lie down," he said softly. "You had some serious injuries an hour ago—"

"I need to hear for myself that Guido's innocent. And I need to find out what exactly Dennison did. Help me to Guido's room."

"Dennison…?"

"I'll crawl there if I have to."

Skye looked like he had bitten into a lemon. "Alright."

With wobbling arms, Wade pushed himself up. He half expected Skye to offer himself as a crutch so the two of them could fumble into Guido's room. What he did _not_ expect, though, was for the idiot to scoop him up in his arms like a knight saving a damsel in distress.

"—You—!"

"Shut it."

Wade bit his tongue. That was the only way he could keep from showering Skye with insults. It was a good thing he could barely walk; that way he wouldn't be able to bludgeon the moron to death.

Fortunately, there was a set of chairs in Guido's room, which looked identical to Wade's own. Skye dumped him onto one of the cushioned seats. Fuming, Wade was about to retort with a tart comeback when what he saw on the bed doused whatever fire he was about to spew.

Daith, with his trembling back facing Wade and Skye, had his arms wrapped tightly around his younger brother, who was trying to speak but couldn't due to the tight, almost suffocating hug.

"Alright, alright, knock it off, you two," Agnes groused as she entered the room with another tray and with her Xatu still following her. To the unabashed delight of Wade's sweet tooth, the tray had a number of petite chocolate chiffon cakes with milky-white icing and chocolate shavings on top. Before he could snatch one, a hand grabbed one of the goodies from the tray and placed it on the table near him. Wade stared at the cake before directing his baffled attention towards Skye, who then procured his own cake and proceeded to demolish half of it in one bite. The blonde's eyes never met his own.

Agnes glared at Skye before handing a saucer to Daith, who blinked at it before taking it in his hand. A goofy beam settled on the witch's face as she said, "Chocolate cake's the best in brightening one's spirits. And this young man here needs all the calories he can get, and there's nothing like chocolate to do that job right. So make sure that you finish at least three."

However, Guido's own nutritional status seemed to be the last thing on his mind. Breathing hard, he grabbed a fistful of his older brother's shirt.

"Daith, they have him, they have Father!"

Everyone froze, with Skye midway in shoving a slice of cake into his mouth and Agnes dropping the tray of cakes. Before Wade could save them with a dramatic dive—an attempt that would probably end in epic failure, he quickly realized—the tray, saucers, forks, and cakes abruptly floated in the air and settled on the table in front of him. Agnes's Xatu suddenly trilled. Looks like the psychic bird had saved the day.

"They said they'd kill him if I didn't do what they want," Guido continued, his voice like a candle about to be snuffed out by a breeze. The sixteen-year old leaned into Daith and lowered his tone, but Wade still heard. "I know you're angry, so I won't ask you to save him. Just let me rest for a while, and I'll be as good as new. I'll go back to Coast Cave—"

Agnes and Skye's reactions were immediate and simultaneous.

"Have you just lost your marbles—?"

"Are you nuts—?"

The hag rounded on Skye and whapped him with her cane. The long-haired teen could do nothing but yelp. "It must have been that last blow, you nervy ninny! His head got hit so hard that he's sputtering malarkey! Now he thinks he's strong enough to go back to that hellhole to—"

"He will do no such thing."

Daith's quiet decree halted any arguments concerning the matter. Instead of revealing what he had in mind, though, he cupped his younger brother's cheeks in both his palms and leaned closer so that his forehead touched Guido's. Wade blinked and swallowed. What was going on…?

Then he felt it. Something began to radiate from the two of them, like being really close to a television screen. It was finished before he could make sense of it all, though. Guido nearly fell back on the pillows, but Daith caught him in time.

"I know where they are."

Wade's eyes widened a fraction. "You know the Clan's exact location in Coast Cave?"

"You seem more comfortable with your retrocog now, big brother," Guido murmured.

There were no wan smiles on Daith's face. "I need to know where to go if I'm going into that maze of tunnels, and your memories seemed the quickest way to find out." Like handling an infant, he laid Guido comfortably on the bed and tucked him in. "Your place is here, resting. And filling yourself up, if you feel hungry. I'll have room service come up with something heavier than dessert. I'll bring… I'll bring Mom from Ochre so she can stay with you. And just in case…" He produced a pokéball and tossed it open. A sea creature with a trio of ruby spheres encrusted in its blue upper body and a host of tentacles drooping from its black lower body appeared.

Wade immediately recognized the pokémon; he had seen its pre-evolution in that Water pokémon stall by the shore, the one where Jacobson's attempt to steal the merchandise had failed.

"I'm leaving my Tentacruel here as a guard," Daith continued. The Water-Poison pokémon's tentacles quickly wrapped around the Poison wielder, who gave it a fond smile and a pat on one of its red spheres.

"I'll just need to make a few preparations—"

"I'm going with you."

The silence that followed was so thick that it could be sliced by a knife.

Daith's attention never left his Tentacruel, though. "… Wade, right? I know you're strong, that much I got from our battle, but—"

"Dennison isn't a psychic that you can easily mess with."

Daith's hand, which was stroking his Tentacruel, stopped moving.

"If the Clan has a big operation going on in Coast Cave, then you can expect a lot of goons all over the place. You'll need help staving them off. Also, I know you're a powerful trainer, but you'll have a type disadvantage since most of these guys use Ground pokémon. As you saw in our battle, I happen to have a number of Water types. Not only this, but you can't face Dennison alone. He can do to you what he did with Guido, so it'll be better if there's someone else who can act as an extra pair of eyes, arms, and legs. And if you're lucky, give him the boot off your mind."

Wade was amazed at how logical the words coming out of his mouth were. Especially since he was nothing but a hodgepodge of emotions inside that was ready to erupt.

"What's your stake in—" Daith began.

"No way are you going to Coast Cave," Skye snarled. The tray on the table clattered to the floor. "I know what you're trying to do. Stop trying to appease your own guilt! Who said you'd have to punish yourself facing those Consable thugs?"

"I am not!" Wade shouted back. Even though what Skye had said was only part of the truth, it still stung. "Stop forcing your righteous views on me! You have no right—! Ow!"

Wade almost toppled off his chair. When his senses came back, he saw Agnes brandishing her cane over Skye, who seemed to have received a thwack on the head, too.

"Quit your yapping!" she barked. "Shame on you for hurling your frustrations at someone who can barely walk, and at your own younger brother, no less." She then swiveled around so quickly that Wade had no time to engage in open-mouthed shock. "And you! Shame on you for even _mulling_ on accompanying Mr. Poison there. You wouldn't last one second in that hoodlum-infested cave in your wretched condition right now."

Wade turned away. His fist clenched before he could stop it. "I'm going, and that's final."

"Then I'll make sure to watch out for him."

Wade's head jerked towards Daith. "What are you, the teen police? You can go about your business, and I'll go on with mine. Just don't get in my way."

"You're all impossible!" Agnes shrieked. Her Xatu warbled disapprovingly, though whether it was at the boys or at its trainer was a mystery.

The door suddenly slammed shut. Wade almost jumped out of his chair. When he turned around, his breath caught in his throat as he discovered that Skye had already left the room.

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_Whatcha think? :D  
_

_When I first crafted Agnes Bittlebee, I wanted to make her less of a minor character who'd just disappear once her role was finished. So now, here she is, impeccable in her cranky awkwardness. Though she's quite useful in defusing some tension. Hee._

_I myself am curious what's going to happen to Wade and Skye now that their relationship seems blown to pieces. It'll make writing the next few chapters more fun. :D_


	26. Chapter 25

Author's Notes  
_This'll be my last update for some time, I'm afraid. Have something busy for November. But if I'm lucky I might be given some time to write. :D_

_I don't own Pokemon. No way am I going to allow myself to dive headlong into such legal mayhem by claiming otherwise. :P  
_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 25**

Wade lay back on the bed in his own room. Daith had offered himself as a crutch, and the mere effort it took to travel to the next bedroom left him panting. This wasn't the main reason why he felt drained, though.

What was Skye's problem, that jerk! Suddenly raising his voice when he mentioned that he was going with Daith to Coast Cave, then walking out and smashing the door shut! Here he was, doing the very thing that Skye was accusing him of failing to do, and then he gets angry! What in the world?

Facing his past… But what Skye had yelled just a while ago was true, and he couldn't deny that.

"_Stop __trying__ to __appease __your __own __guilt! __Who __said __you__'__d __have __to __punish __yourself__ facing__ those__ Consable __thugs?_

But what else was he supposed to do? The way Guido had acted, the way he had been forced to do the bidding of a depraved and greedy man who used people as discardable tools, the fact that his father had been held hostage, the reason why Daith was now involved with the Clan…

It was hard not to believe that everything wasn't his fault. Even though Umbreon and the rest of his mulish pokémon would insist that it wasn't. And to think he had the gall to stubbornly accuse Guido of being a thief when the reason why he was doing all this was related to Clan activity.

His hands shook. He stared at them as if they weren't his own.

"Are you scared?"

Wade's head jerked towards Daith, who was seated in front of him. He had forgotten that he was still there. Despite the honest question that had been devoid of scorn or sarcasm, he avoided meeting the other's gaze.

"… Maybe." It wasn't only that, right? Skye, that stupid featherbrain! _You __were __supposed__ to __be __my __older __brother__…_

"I won't ask how you're involved in all this," Daith said, "and why you know so much about these Consable guys. But I do promise I'll watch your back. It's the least I can do after what happened..."

"Stop saying unnecessary things," Wade muttered, but with no real heat. _Stop __saying __that __it__'__s __the __least __you __can __do __for __me. __You __have __no __idea __how __obligated __I __am__ to __try __to __help __you__ now __that __I __know __that __the __Consable __Clan__'__s __behind __this __craziness._

Daith offered him a bare curve of a smile. "We'll have to prepare, won't we? The first step will have to be healing our pokémon. Maybe we can do it in batches, so that someone stays with Guido while the other one goes to the Pokémon Center. I can go first—"

"How do I know that you're not going to leave me here?" Wade flatly asked.

"I can make sure of that," Agnes suddenly said as she entered the room. "Since all of you seem so desperate to go on with this conceited claptrap of yours, then I got to make sure that no funny business crops up."

"Also," added Daith with an uncomfortable look at the witch, "the reason why I was offering to go first was so you could rest. I can wake you up when Agnes and I return from the Center. I was thinking of getting some supplies, too, like an Escape Rope, some Hyper Potions and Full Heals. Maybe a pair of sunglasses. Then I have to pick… Mom… up from Ochre Village."

"Hold your Ponyta," Agnes said. "I hate to throw a wrench in the works, but shouldn't we be revving up our plans for this 'lil rescue? For all we know these goons might do your dad in once they find out that they have no control on Guido anymore."

"Dennison isn't like that," Wade mumbled. "He's… he's a sadist. He played a lot of mind games with my…" He shivered but quickly got a hold of himself. "I don't think your dad's in any immediate risk of being… of being killed." He didn't mention that there worse things that could happen. Such as being told that your son was dead. Or being accused that your son died because of you. Besides, killing Mr. Redspike would deprive Dennison of his source of pleasure. But he left that unspoken.

Daith took in a deep breath. "Either way, we still need preparations. You were right when you said that Coast Cave will probably be replete with guards. I saw as much when I delved into Guido's memories of the place. It will be impossible to sneak in without being discovered, so confrontation will be unavoidable."

"If you're planning to go back to the pokémart to get supplies," Wade said, "then you better keep your mouth shut to the owner. Because as far as he's concerned, we're just having fun with Fair events."

Daith looked at him long and hard before nodding. "Save your energy then. I'll wake you up when Agnes and I are done."

Wade closed his eyes as the two left the room. Despite the thoughts wrecking carnage in his beleaguered head, he almost instantly fell asleep.

- x x x -

"Guido, the food that Daith ordered is here."

Sitting on the bed and leaning against the headboard, Guido shifted his attention to Skye, who was removing the metal food cloches on the various trays. He seemed in awe of the viands: chicken ala kiev with herbed cream sauce, baked salmon roulade on potato galette, braised stuffed squid with grapefruit and greens, shrimp skewers with pesto, and sides of numerous dips like liver pate and mushroom caviar with crunchy bread sticks. Thank goodness there were labels; otherwise they'd have no idea what they'd be eating.

Guido watched his friend of seven years. Usually, he'd be chattering right now about practically anything under the sun, like maybe how Dennison was able to weasel himself into his mind, what his pokémon thought about this entire sordid ordeal, or even something as mundane as what would go well with each of the viands. He'd comment on why Guido never mentioned anything about his love of the violin, or complain that they didn't see enough of each other in the past months.

He was not used to a quiet Skye who hid behind phony smiles and cheerful veneers. Or one who raised his voice or left in the middle of an argument. Or one whose hands trembled and forehead furrowed despite a feast in front of his eyes.

"Maybe you'd like to start with bread sticks?" Skye asked.

Guido wondered how he'd approach him. He reached for the plate of bread sticks and dipped one in the liver pate.

"I haven't thanked you yet for saving me from that psychic," he said softly.

Skye stiffened. A shadow fell across his face, but he resumed fiddling with the cutlery and handed him a glass of water.

"I'm sorry you had to undergo all that." And Guido meant it. He knew that it tore at Skye that he had to hurt a friend. Friendships were sacred to the fifteen-year old, so anything that threatened such relationships had the power to put him on edge. "You really did save me, and I'm grateful."

Skye's face contorted before he slumped on the chair.

"I'm such a mess," he mumbled. He raised his hands to his head and clutched tightly at his hair. "Can you tell me again why I started shouting at…"

Guido said nothing. A talking Skye was a good place to start, after all.

"It's not his fault," he kept on, his voice quavering. "But he's just too stubborn to let this go."

"… Skye, what happened?"

The blonde finally looked at him. Guido nearly gasped. He wanted to shy away from those haunted eyes. They didn't belong in his friend's face.

Then out tumbled the incident where Wade took the Poison attack that had been meant for Skye. As Guido listened, he started to understand why his friend looked like a stretched rubber band that was ready to snap. But that didn't stop remorse from burrowing deep under his skin.

"I'm sorry for what Daith did," Guido whispered. "It was my fault in the first place. I hadn't expected him to…"

Skye's gaze stopped the rest of his words in their tracks. "You know, it hurts, too, when you keep apologizing like that. I…" He inhaled deeply. "I may be angry at your older brother now, but I can't deny that I understand a bit of how he reacted. I… I felt like exploding when Wade got hurt on my account." He looked out the hotel window, as if all the answers to his problems lay in the sunshine that could barely penetrate the green curtains. "Wade and I… we got into a really bad fight last night. We both nearly blasted the entire second floor of the pokémart. And yet… I don't know what he was thinking, but there he goes tackling me out of harm's way and getting hit in the process. It's not exactly something you'd expect from a guy you just shouted at to quit moping about stuff in the past."

Guido stared at the other before slowly nodding. Unsure of what else to say, he dipped a bread stick in the mushroom caviar and finished it in a few deliberate bites.

"I don't know what to do." A shiver wracked Skye's form. His voice dropped to a whisper. "What am I supposed to do, Guido?"

A few minutes of mentally fumbling for an answer paid off; he got one while thinking of his older brother. "Have you tried asking Wade why all that happened?"

"I'll be lucky to come out alive from that encounter. Especially after I screamed at him like a huffy brat a while back."

He closed his eyes and leaned against the headboard. "I'm sure I know why Daith reacted the way he did when he saw me unconscious."

Skye just stared at him blankly.

As Guido remembered all the things his older brother had done for him even though he had been banished from Ochre Village because of his Poison wielder abilities, he felt warmth spread from his head down to his toes. All the gifts, all the financial aid, all the visits…

He was certain that something similar lay hidden between the two other boys.

"Things will turn out fine," said Guido, mustering up a small smile. "I think that, deep down, you already have an idea about what went wrong. You've always been the kind to believe in people. I think that's what's going to help settle all of this."

"… You think so?"

Guido nodded. He was sure of it.

Skye's gaze wandered on the trays of food that patiently waited on the trolley. "… So maybe I'll go along to Coast Cave, just to make sure that Wade doesn't run amok."

Guido stifled a frown. Even though Skye had balked when he had apologized the first time… "I'm sorry you had to be involved in this, Skye. Really, I'd go myself, but…"

The blond finally offered him a genuine grin, and Guido felt relieved. "What are you talking about? I'd be ashamed to call myself your friend if I didn't do this much. We'll do everything we can to save your dad, Guido." He scratched his head Mareepishly. "That way, we can call it even. I just know I'll have nightmares remembering how I almost blew you off the roofs."

Guido almost chuckled. This was why he was sure that things would turn out better. It was like gazing at that painting that Skye had entered in the Colors Contest, that acrylic that could fill the viewer with optimism with all those uplifting colors swirling in a vast expanse of possibilities. This was the Skye he knew and grew to rely on, a Skye full of smiles and cheer that could boost anyone's spirits.

"I hope you can forgive Daith one day," Guido said. He couldn't help mention that; after all, it was hard to quell his protective instincts for his brother. Even if he was the younger sibling. He wished that the relationship between Daith and their parents showed as much hope, but… maybe that was for another time and place. "You'll put your faith in him, too. I know it."

"Maybe someday," Skye agreed. "I think the food's waited long enough. You heard what Agnes said: you need to catch up with your calories. You're in last place, buddy, so get a move on."

Guido laughed, and it felt good.

- x x x -

A little stuffed from all the high-end cuisine, Skye fidgeted with the handle of the food cloche. He watched Guido's sleeping form and idly wondered if Wade was awake.

Despite that one-to-one with the sixteen-year old, he still wanted to moan. How in the world was he going to patch things up with his "younger brother" now? He dreaded traversing the winding underground tunnels of Coast Cave with this kind of gloom and doom hovering between him and Wade. Imagining the curt conversations and the frosty animosity was enough to make his knees buckle.

Ledian suddenly chuckled in his mind.

[Thanks for caring.]

[Oh no, thank _you_,] the Bug-Flying pokémon replied. [It's not every day we get premium seats for these kinds of dramas. I wonder if this ritzy hotel has some popcorn?]

[I want mine with butter,] Pidgeot quipped. [Do you have any idea how amusing it is to watch all the thoughts parading in your head right now? Who needs a good battle to entertain us when we got something much better?]

[And the best part is,] Ledian added, [there are no commercials.]

Skye was sorely tempted to sit in the corner and sulk.

_I__ may __as __well __bring __this __food __over __to __the __other__ room __and __get __it __over __with._ He failed to suppress a deep sigh. Clutching the tray containing the chicken ala kiev in one hand and the plates with the bread sticks and dip in the other, he heaved himself up and left the room with heavy steps.

And just his luck. Wade was awake when he peeked into the other room. Like Guido, he was seated and leaning on the headboard. The expression on the other's face stopped Skye in his tracks. His lips thinned. Glumness didn't belong on the eyes of a guy who had saved the life of his older brother. Even if that older brother had just yelled at him a while ago because he couldn't handle the thought of any harm befalling his younger sibling.

Skye inhaled deeply. _Here__ goes._ "You look better. Are you hungry?"

Surprise only lasted a second. Wade leveled a wary glance at him.

Skye wondered what his own face looked like, especially since he himself didn't know what he was feeling right now. Trying not to seem like he was dragging his feet, he walked into the room, lifted the food cloche, and slowly placed the tray of chicken on the bed, beside the other's lap.

"You'll need your strength if you plan to go face those Consable thugs."

Wade's didn't touch the plate at all. "You don't have to force yourself over this." His tone was dead.

Even though he was a little peeved at the other's reply, Skye decided to maintain a volume that was proper for polite conversation. "I'm going with you whether you want to or not."

Wade's voice rose a smidgen. "You always do this—" He suddenly clammed up, and Skye wouldn't be surprised if he had bitten his tongue.

This didn't seem to be going well again. Talk about having a penchant for bungling things up.

Skye found his voice going quieter. "You're right. I always do this. I can't help getting angry when you place yourself at risk, whether it be to your past, the Consable Clan, or even Daith's little act on the roofs. I can't help worrying, because I just appointed myself your older brother, and a sibling's got to do what a sibling's got to do, right? The problem is, when other people seem to take that role better than I do, it just plain sucks. So instead of thanking you for saving my life, I get mixed up and start screaming my head off. Pretty pathetic, I know.

"But that's not going to stop this featherbrain from going to Coast Cave with you. You may hate me for it, but I'll just grit my teeth and be none the wiser."

Done with his little speech, he let his eyes fall to the floor and waited for the explosion. When none came, he looked up and found Wade staring at him with his jaw dropped. He took a few moments to revel in the fact that his declaration had left the other flabbergasted before sinking back into trepidation.

"And this is why I don't get you at all," Wade muttered.

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual."

Wade poked at the chicken with a fork before chucking a creamy piece into his mouth. Glaring at the bread sticks, he said in a voice that was almost a whisper, "What if I'm after the Clan not just to sate my guilt, or sense of revenge and responsibility, or whatever else you've conceived in your head. I mean, yeah, all those feelings are there; after all, I want to save Guido's dad, too." His fist clenched, and after a few moments it blanched from the tension. "What if I want to save more than one father?"

The meaning lost to him, Skye's eyebrows went up. But once he grasped what Wade was talking about, all he could do was gape.

"Because it's all about second chances and faith in people, right?" Wade continued quietly, as if he were lost in his own maze of thoughts. "That's why I went after Guido, too. You were right; he had a reason for stealing all that stuff. And I was too blind with my anger to see it. He didn't do anything wrong. He just wanted to protect his father.

"And how about my own father? He's lived a life of depravity. Maybe some would think that he doesn't deserve another lease on life. But if I found my second chance with the Andies family, then shouldn't he be offered the same chance, even if it means going to a jail cell?

"And that's why I have to go. I'm going to stop running away."

Skye released the breath that he had unconsciously been holding. Since when had Wade acquired this kind of guts?

"But I can't do it alone." His voice trembled. "I thought I could do this by myself. But everything's your fault. Now I can't imagine facing my demons without someone at my side." Wade folded his knees towards him and wrapped his arms around them. "All you and your dad's stupid kindness, every little detail about being in a family… You just couldn't leave a lost kid alone, now could you, even if that lost kid seemed like a Beedrill nest.

"So now you're coming with us, huh? About time you wised up." The last few words came out croaky. "You can keep to yourself or trail far behind, I don't care. But at least I know you're there."

Skye realized that this was the closest he'd ever get to seeing Wade beg.

Certain that he wouldn't be pushed away, he laid a hand on the other's head. He couldn't stop the small smile blooming on his face.

"How can I say no to the guy who saved my life from a Poison-toting lunatic?"

"… Oh, go kiss a Qwilfish."

Skye laughed. His chest didn't feel heavy any more. _Now_ he understood why Wade wanted to go with Daith. He _needed_ this little excursion to Coast Cave if he was going to have any sense of closure. And Skye was determined to see it through with him, just like that time when they had faced Chef Hotnoser and had brought down his operation in that Mudhouse escapade.

"So we're going as soon as Daith and Agnes come back, right?"

Wade nodded. As an afterthought, he muttered, "Besides, if I don't go now, there won't be anyone left by the time Daith's through with those idiots."

_It__ won__'__t __be __just __Daith __who__'__s __going __to __make __the __Consable __Clan __pay,_ Skye promised. _For __forcing __Guido __to __do__ their __dirty __work,__ I__'__ll __turn __them__ into __pokéchow._ And he sealed this oath with a chunk of chicken in his mouth, a forceful chewing, a determined swallow, and a resolute nod.

For some reason that he could not fathom, though, he received Wade's signature death glare.

"I thought that was mine."

Was he talking about the food? "You mean all this?" he asked incredulously. "Don't tell me you have plans of finishing the entire plate."

"You were the one who told me that I needed my strength! You moron! I'm making you responsible if I don't have enough energy and totter around when we get to Coast Cave!"

Skye raised his hands in defense. "Alright, alright! I'll get the other viands."

"And a glass of water, too."

Still feeling that glare as he left the room, Skye could not have been happier arguing with Wade like this. After procuring what he needed, he set the trays on the bed and handed the other his glass of water. Wade downed it in a single gulp then attacked the rest of the food with such ferocity that Skye wondered if another call to room service was in order.

Murmurs from the common area hauled him out of the bed. It seemed that the others had arrived. He trotted out of the room and saw Daith and Agnes with a few paper bags and accompanied by a stranger: a plump lady sporting a bun and shawl and who seemed like she hadn't slept in a week. Agnes was nattering to her that there was no need to worry and that they'd rescue Mr. Redspike and kick Consable behinds before the day was done. For some odd reason, though, Daith wasn't speaking to the woman and seemed to be doing so with tenacious effort.

"That was fast," Skye commented.

"And this one here's Skye Andies," Agnes told the lady. "He's the one in the picture beside your son. Skye, this is Guido's mother."

He offered her a tentative smile. He was about to greet her, but he nearly jumped when Daith wordlessly walked past him and into Wade's room. Not trusting the other to do anything suspicious, he followed.

"Glad to see you're eating," Daith told Wade. Skye kept his temper in check and said nothing. "Here's a new shirt and a pair of dark sunglasses. It'll attract less attention if that bandage is removed."

Without apparent care for manners, Wade unleashed a hearty burp. He let Daith attend to the wrapping on his face. In the meantime, Skye brought out the shirt from the paper bag—a navy blue sleeveless with an image of an Eevee in front and an Umbreon at the back—and pretended to inspect it. He snuck a peek at the other two. When Wade opened his left eye, a gasp tore out of him before he could stop it. Daith only stared.

"What?" Wade asked.

Skye felt his temper threaten to erupt, but he quashed it. He had promised Guido, after all. That didn't stop him from gritting his teeth, though. "Your eye… It's blood red."

With a hand coming up to his face and resting just below the eye in question, Wade looked away. "It's not painful. And I can see just fine."

"Maybe a visit to an ophthalmologist…" Daith began.

"That'll take too long," Wade answered swiftly. He shifted his attention to Skye, then placed a hand on the other's forearm and squeezed it.

[You are _not_ causing a scene.]

Skye blinked. Why'd he say that? Did he look like bloody murder right now? Resolutely avoiding looking at Daith, he slid Wade into the blue sleeveless shirt, popped on the sunglasses and his footwear, then said, "We're going to the Center now." And before any of them could react, he took them out of sight with a teleport.

A few seconds later, the two of them quietly exited the spacious restroom of the Pokémon Center. Skye directed Wade to a set of couches near the entrance before heading for Nurse Joy. As she attended to their pokémon, he snatched furtive glances at the brown-haired youth to make sure that he wasn't suddenly going to faint. He almost giggled as Wade flashed his sunglasses and arched an eyebrow at a Growlithe that had accidentally tumbled into his legs while chasing a Houndour. The poor pup immediately yelped when it looked up into Wade's face and ran with its tail between its legs.

A few minutes later found them heading back to the restroom. He was about to enter one of the stalls when Wade stopped and suddenly grabbed his arm.

"We'll just take a quick detour. It won't take long."

The walls of the restroom flashed into oblivion. Taking in his new surroundings, Skye heard and smelled the ocean and felt its breath playing with his ponytail, and when he turned around, a vast blue expanse indeed spread out before him. His feet crunched on soil, coarse sand, and a few pebbles that had been hewn by the currents and waves. Expecting the harsh heat of the sun, he was surprised to find a rocky ceiling that provided ample shade but failed to shield them from the glare that reflected from the sea.

"Mama."

Eyes bulging, Skye whirled around. He spotted Wade approaching a stone structure that reached up to their knees. The other crouched down and placed a hand on the makeshift gravestone.

"I'm meeting with… with Father. I'm going to face them one more time, like that encounter two days ago with Hotnoser.

"This is Skye, by the way. You know, the one I keep telling you about, the really annoying one." Skye swallowed an indignant exclamation. "He's going with me to Coast Cave." He saw Wade exhale. "For the past seven years it seems that I've gotten tangled up in this silly thing called family, and I've gained an older brother. He'll be the one I'll be relying on when things get knotty at Coast Cave."

[And not some "Poison-toting lunatic."] Wade added mentally. Skye's mouth twitched towards an exasperated smile.

He watched Wade stand up and head off. _So__ this __is __his __special __place, __huh?_ Skye wondered if he had just been given the privilege of being the first to know about this little grotto by the sea.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Consable," Skye greeted. "Thanks for entrusting Wade to us. Don't worry; I'll take care of him."

When he turned around, he got an arched eyebrow from the other.

"Could you be any schmaltzier, Birdbrain?

Skye answered with a hearty laugh. He flung an arm around Wade's neck—"Will you get off me!"—and reared him in playfully. Now that both of them had gotten rid of their emotional baggage, they could move ahead with few worries. If Skye was any luckier, things would go back to the way they were.

"Let's go back to the hotel."

"I wonder if they still have those chocolate cakes…" Wade murmured.

"Uh…" Skye gulped.

"You just had to make that tray of sweets crash on the floor!"

"Well so-rry! I was still pretty worked up about this insane idea of yours."

"I didn't know you had a temper… Wait till I tell Lilibeth and the others."

"Why, you—!"

Still bickering, the two vanished.

- x x x -

Author's Notes  
_Next chapter will be the start of the trek to Coast Cave. Plus a little side story that will reinforce the theme I'm working on in this fic. :D Please look forward to it, everyone!_


	27. Chapter 26

Author's Notes

_Hopefully, I won't be taking any more 2-year hiatuses. Thanks to the e-mail of a friend (Hi, vulpes opaca!), I've resolved to finish this story. I was thinking of completing the entire fic prior to posting any chappies, but I decided to upload this next chapter and work from there. I'm now doing Chapter 28._

_So here's Chapter 26. To all those who've persisted up to this point, my sincerest gratitude. It's really different from the usual, but, delusions aside, I'd like to think that it was worth your time to read. And I hope you've enjoyed the romp._

_I don't own Pokémon. But I do plan to own a 3DS and a copy of Pokémon X and Y when they come out this October. Happiness! :D_

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 26**

Not for the first time, Mrs. Redspike let her eyes wander around the hotel room and tried not to leave her mouth hanging open. She looked like such a village peasant that stained the immaculate luxury of this hotel room with her hair that seemed untidy despite the bun, her tattered brown shawl that had been patched too many times, her white blouse and skirt sporting dirty blots, and her threadbare desert sandals. Somewhat in a daze, she tapped the clean carpet that covered the entire floor of the bedroom with her foot and smoothed her fingers against the polished wooden round table sitting quietly beside the door. Not even seeming to notice her son lying down on the bed, she then grasped the olive-colored quilt enveloping Guido's legs and marveled at its exquisite softness. She picked up a soft scent of flowers that barely concealed a mild odor of mildew drifting in the bedroom.

"Are you okay, Mom?"

She stared at her son and realized that her head was still clouded with incredulity at the whole situation. Here Guido was, bruised but generally well, surrounded by trays of food that she could only dream about and looking much better than he had in the previous days, with no sinister psychic lodged in his mind to monitor his every blink of an eye.

"… Is he really out of your head?"

Guido's lips motioned towards a smile. He nodded. "I have Skye to thank for that."

Skye. The boy with the long hair who shared the picture with Guido. It seemed that her youngest had found a friend who would weather rough times with him.

Then there was her other son. The one she had failed eight years ago. Her and Micah's sin. The one who had violated the village Elders' will and dropped in at the house just last night, who had used his supernatural powers to extricate from the Consable goons their greedy schemes, as well as the location of his younger brother.

That Daith would travel into the very heart of the nest of thieves in order to rescue his father still bewildered her. It seemed like a dream.

"… Will they be okay?" Mrs. Redspike wasn't sure who exactly "they" referred to. Was it Daith? Her husband? The two teenagers and the sweet grandmother who had left with her eldest just a few minutes ago?

"I want to believe in all of them," was her son's simple reply.

That lump in her throat and that heavy, cold weight in her stomach prevented a smile from forming. She wrapped her trembling hands around Guido's.

"Daith will do his best to rescue Father." Guido continued softly.

Now she knew why she had that lump in her throat. The cause was more than doubt; she realized that she was about to cry. She let her tears flow unimpeded.

"They'll come home, won't they?"

Guido's own eyes shone with unshed tears. Somehow, he was able to dredge up another smile. And for the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to hope.

- x x x -

[Sneasel, Faint Attack!]

Despite the poor illumination inside the cave, Wade could still make out the poor wild Wooper's form fall from his pokémon's attack. He didn't even give it enough time to finish squealing in surprise; a pokéball flew in the air, plunked on the Water pokémon's gilled head, and swiftly engulfed it in a brief burst of brilliance.

"Nice catch," Daith commented from behind him as he picked up the pokéball.

Wade was sure that there was a faint blush on his cheeks, but he refrained from answering. Instead, he spent a few seconds pretending to look for something in his backpack. With a pat on Sneasel's head he then recalled the Dark-Ice pokémon and shifted his attention to Skye, who was also occupied with catching a pokémon.

The blonde's Honchkrow, which he had evolved with a Dusk Stone prior to their departure from the hotel, was chasing a blind, big-eared resident of Coast Cave that mostly used sound for navigation: a Zubat. The flapping creatures were so numerous that Skye couldn't make up his mind on which one of them to capture, and this was reflected in his Honchkrow's frequent switch in quarry. A few more minutes of chasing seemed fruitless as the Zubat fluttered about, until finally Skye's Honchkrow grew exasperated enough to rap its trainer in his head with its beak. Wade didn't bother hiding a snigger.

"Ow! Okay, okay, go for that one," Skye said as he pointed at a Zubat that wasn't flapping about; this one was quietly dangling from the cave ceiling beside a group of stalactites. "Go for a Pursuit!"

Wade could have sworn that the blonde's Honchkrow had rolled its eyes before launching itself towards the Poison-Flying pokémon. With a clipped squawk it collided with its target. Unprepared for the sudden attack, the Zubat squeaked and fell. It unfolded its wings to avoid splatting on the ground, but not before being caught up in the red incandescence of Skye's pokéball.

Skye wasted no time in releasing his newly caught pokémon. The Zubat hovered a few seconds in the air before sitting on Skye's shoulder.

"What is this," Agnes suddenly snapped, "the Safari Zone? Why's everyone chucking pokéballs left and right? I thought we got a rescue operation here!" She nearly yelped when a couple of Zubat swooped from the ceiling towards her head. "Pointy, get over here and sic a Confusion at these pests, will you?"

If only Wade could sit down for a while so he could relish Agnes's indignant yaps and squawks… Settling for a smirk that he was sure no one would notice due to the dimness of their surroundings, he watched as her Lunatone, a moon-shaped creature that didn't look out-of-place in these craggy passageways, fended off the Zubat with waves of Psychic power.

Before they knew it, though, the belligerent pokémon had suddenly stopped squeaking, winged towards the ceiling, and ensconced themselves in comfortable perches. Utterly mystified, Wade could only gape.

_Now this feels familiar…_

"That'll calm them down," he heard Skye murmur. The Zubat on his shoulder uttered a series of squeaks, to which the long-haired youth cocked his head so he could listen.

[You did something, again, didn't you?] Wade asked flatly.

Skye grinned. [You betcha.]

"What in Kyogre's keister happened?" Agnes croaked out.

"I think Skye told all the Zubat to back down," Daith answered calmly, as if he saw bizarre changes in pokémon behavior on a daily basis. For some reason, the blonde fired a scowl at the Poison wielder. "Now we won't have to worry about them."

"Oh, there's always the other pokémon to contend with," Wade said offhandedly. With a pensive look at the other teen, he wondered if Skye could ask that newly caught Zubat for directions to the Consable Clan's lair. It was probably the main reason why Skye had bothered to catch one.

Wade took a step deeper into the cave, but before he could even lift his foot his knees suddenly buckled.

Arms quickly wrapped around him from behind and hoisted him up. Was that him practically panting for air? Why did his backpack feel like it carried a pile of rocks instead of a few healing items, a couple of Escape Ropes, and a small bottle of water? He seemed more exhausted than he thought, but he'd rather argue with a pack of raging Gyarados than admit this. Taking a few seconds to catch his breath, he leaned against the weight behind him.

"Feel better?"

Wade froze. He pushed against Daith and was proud that he didn't stumble forward.

"Fine," he muttered. He trotted towards Skye to ask if his Zubat had told him where the thieves were, but was absolutely boggled when he was faced with a surly glower.

Skye faced away from him and continued forward. "This Zubat says that there's a man tied up somewhere. I'm willing to bet that that's Mr. Redspike. It has a fair idea where he is so we won't get lost in case we get separated from Daith."

"We haven't even reached those bandits yet and already my heart's in my head," Agnes grumbled. "So what's next, a Zubat circus show?"

Her query was answered after a few more steps. Apparently, Wade's Wooper wasn't the only one living in the cave. The four encountered a few more clusters of the Water pokémon, and although not particularly aggressive, they hampered further travel into the tunnels by curiously following them and blocking their way. Skye decided to solve the problem with his Jumpluff's Sleep Powder, a move that transformed the clumps of Wooper from annoying tag-alongs to adorable nappers—complete with drool dripping down their snoring mouths.

Then there were the Geodude, small, unobtrusive pokémon that could have been mistaken as part of the scenery. When Agnes accidentally thumped her cane at one, the Rock-Ground pokémon rumbled and launched itself at her. Before she could shriek an order to Pointy the Lunatone, Wade had already released his newly acquired Wooper and ordered a Water Gun. Barely hanging on to wakefulness, the Geodude executed a Rock Throw. Wooper squealed and fell on its rump but got back up.

"Finish it with another Water Gun."

Wooper opened its mouth and let loose a burst of water. With a final sigh, the Geodude clunked down.

[Poor Geodude,] a foreign voice remarked in Wade's mind. [They really don't like anything wet that much, do they?]

Startled, Wade almost tripped. Thank goodness that there was an adjacent stalagmite to steady him and prevent another fall, especially since he'd rather be squished by a Snorlax than let Daith catch him again.

[Did I hear you just pity those chunks of rock?] Wade asked his Wooper.

The little Water pokémon craned its head up at him and gaped. It proceeded to chirrup, but to Wade's mind the words were loud and clear. [Did this human just talk to me?]

"I can ask you the same thing," Wade replied incredulously. "Wait, why am I bothering with surprise? I can hear Horsea and Gyarados's voices fine, too."

"Y'see that?" he heard Agnes whispering loudly to Skye. "It's such a pity that he's getting demented at such a young age. What was that that my poor cousin Dobry got that landed him in a mental institute? Ah. Schizophrenia. Your brother have that?"

Wade fumed. It didn't help that Skye seemed like he had swallowed a chortle.

[Wait…] Wade bent down to lift his Wooper up. [If we can perfectly understand each other, then would you mind telling me something? Would you happen to know where a bunch of thieves are? I know that they're somewhere around this cave. Their leader's this fat, bald guy. Would you also happen to know if there's a man tied up or being guarded somewhere?]

Wooper kept its beady eyes straight at him. [Thieves? They're wrecking our home by making more tunnels and chambers. It's why we have lots of tremors. I don't really see a fat man among them, but there _is_ this thin, powerful man who's always being followed by a strong psychic pokémon.] Wooper's shudder told Wade what it thought about that. [The Zubat said that there's another thin man who doesn't have a steady gait lying tied up in a really big room.]

[We have to go find him first, Wooper. Can you lead the way?]

Wooper didn't answer. Its head abruptly turned towards the yawning darkness before them. With its gills jiggling, it seemed to listen to an unknown sound.

Echoes of unfamiliar voices and hurried footfalls surfaced from the dimness. Yellow pinpoints of light, probably lamps held by Consable thugs, approached them at alarming speeds. The few Zubat watching them from above chittered nervously.

Agnes uttered the obvious: "Looks like we got company."

Wade brought out a Super Potion from his backpack and applied it to his Wooper. Feeling refreshed, it chirped a thank you then hopped to the ground.

Five men followed by different kinds of Ground pokémon came into view. One of them, a muscular man wearing nothing but a bandanna, shorts, thick sandals, and a displeased expression, stepped forward and said, "Sorry, folks, but the caves are off-limits. We'd love to tell you to go back, but we really can't afford any witnesses now, so you'll just have to come with us." His pokémon, a sturdy-looking creature with flappy ears, formidable tusks, and a long-snout, bellowed in agreement.

[I don't think this is something you should handle alone,] Wade told his Wooper. [Slowking, help him out.]

The Water-Psychic Pokémon appeared. With its hands clasped behind it, it surveyed the scene as if waiting for a theater play to begin.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Skye release his Jumpluff. The blue puffball took a position in front of him. Not to be outdone, Skye's Zubat launched into the air and also looked ready to battle.

"We're not going to sit by the sidelines, now are we, Pointy?" Agnes said. "Let's show them what the senior citizens of the world can do!"

The shirtless guy's pokémon lumbered forward, and it was joined by one of the other henchmen's pokémon: a Numel. Wade could smell the faint traces of smoke wafting out from its hump, an odor that did not make the thick air in the cave any easier to breathe.

"It's too bad you have to resist," the man with the bandanna said. "We'll make this quick, then. Donphan, start with a Rollout!"

"Numel," his battling partner barked, "pump up with Focus Energy!"

Donphan curled into a ball and prepared to accelerate. At Wade's command, Slowking loosed a Psychic. The air around the tough-looking pokémon undulated like the surface of a lake being struck by a pebble. Despite this onslaught, Donphan still managed to roll weakly into Slowking, which barely budged from the Rock attack. Without wasting another moment, Wade instructed Wooper to spray the Ground pokémon with a Water Gun. Donphan finally fell.

As the battle progressed, Wade heard Skye's own pokémon launch their own attacks. Faced with the bulkier evolution of Geodude, a Graveler, and the fleshier evolution of Wooper, a Quagsire, Jumpluff and Zubat flittered about with successive Giga Drains and Supersonics. Meanwhile, Agnes was shrieking, "Confusion! Confusion! Confusion!" and cackling away as if she had descended into relentless lunacy.

The man with the bandanna brought out his next pokémon: a yellow rodent with bricklike skin that Slowking quickly made short work out of. As for Numel, it unleashed one last attack before Wooper could bring it down with a Water Gun: a Magnitude.

Wade felt his heartbeat rise and his hands go cold. Quakes in a cave were never good; who knew when the tunnels would suddenly collapse on them. He heard Skye's loud gasp and suddenly recalled that the other wasn't comfortable with enclosed spaces.

A few more seconds brought them to the conclusion of the pokémon battles. Defeated, the henchmen scrambled to leave, but Skye's Jumpluff and Zubat swiftly overtook them to block their exit. Faced with a diminutive bat and a cute ball of puff, the five thugs eyed the pokémon in terror. Skye then produced an Escape Rope from his own backpack and proceeded to tie them all up. Once he was finished with the task, he quickly turned around and hugged his Jumpluff and Zubat to suffocation while flooding them with compliments.

Daith, who had not participated in any if the battles, sat on his haunches to study the lamps that the Consable goons had brought with them.

"Might not be a good idea to bring these," he said to no one in particular. "We'll attract more attention if we do."

Wade couldn't argue with that. With a "Good job," to his pokémon, he recalled Slowking into its pokéball but kept Wooper out so it could help lead the way. Maintaining a silence that no one seemed interested in breaking, the four, accompanied by their pokémon, trudged deeper into Coast Cave.

It wasn't long before a number of paths opened up to them. Steered by the memories that Daith had acquired from his younger brother, not to mention Skye's Zubat and Wade's Wooper, the group navigated through the meandering corridors, scattered puddles of muddy water, massive boulders, and tall stalagmites. More Consable thugs came their way, but before any of them could order their pokémon to attack, _something_… slithered swiftly towards the goons and promptly took them out.

When Wade's own shock subsided, he snuck a look at Daith and could not help swallowing. Even in the poor light, he could see that the man's eyes were like tombstones: hard and forbidding in their silence. He nearly sucked in a surprised breath as a serpentine form crawled its way back to Guido's brother. Wade then realized that the one that had incapacitated the Consable henchmen had been the Poison wielder's Arbok.

It was then that they were all reminded about the urgency of their situation. Dispensing with frivolities such as squabbles and jests, the four hastened their steps to rescue Mr. Redspike and—Wade hoped—his own wicked father.

- x x x -

Cassius stood before the pokémart with his arms folded and reviewed how he was going to rob it.

Aside from the funds that he had so far procured—earned from the fishing competition and filched from the pokémon contest—he would need a lot more if he was going to leave that blasted clan. Especially if he planned to make his own band of thieves where he could call the shots. After all, money made the world go round: as salaries for the henchmen, as capital for equipment and maybe even a hideout, as funds to procure food for the pokémon that would be used in heists, and all other sorts of financial issues.

Unfortunately for him, the Beam Tournament was the last competition for the Pokémon Fair, so he'd have to resort to the shops for quick, good-sized cash. And not just any shop; it had to be a store that could cater to the numerous ongoing events that heavily involved pokémon, be it battles or performances or contests. That way, there was a higher probability of acquiring a larger amount.

Aside from this, there was one more prerequisite for the perfect theft: it had to be little Wade's workplace so he could bamboozle the owner into thinking that his sales clerk had been kidnapped and would only be released until Cassius was paid with a handsome sum. On receipt of the cash, he would then point everyone in the direction of Coast Cave. With a little more luck, the police would sniff this out and aid in the ruin of those Consable idiots.

And so, with the tyrannical sun high above his head and Pokémon Fair revelers streaming around him, here he was in front of the Andies pokémart.

He stepped in and surveyed the surroundings. The cold air from the air condition immediately halted the mid-day heat from further cooking his skin. With eyes narrowing, he scrutinized the organized rows of shelves that lay on one side and the counter with the cash register on the other. Children laughed and shouted as they pored over the Super Potions, Escape Ropes, Water Stones, and other items, but he paid them no attention. Instead, he focused on the girl with short, auburn hair and pink apron being trailed by an Oddish and another girl with long, pink hair and an oversized pair of glasses. Probably more sales clerks. He was about to wonder where the pokémart owner was when he spotted a lean man with neatly trimmed flaxen hair and slim glasses; he seemed occupied teaching an attack to a customer's pokémon, a blue-colored creature with big eyes, a foam-like structure around its neck, and white hands. To add to his curiosity, the exotic-looking pokémon—he'd bet his fishing rod that it was a Water type—was sitting on top of a sack of pokémon food. He inched a little closer to see what brand it was.

"Wow, can I really get this bag of Chinchou Chow for free, Mr. Andies?" Cassius heard the trainer say. "This is the best food for Water pokémon that I know of, and I'm sure that my Froakie will love it!" Gazing rapturously at the sack, the pokémon croaked in agreement.

The pokémart owner smiled and nodded. "Our stockroom's overflowing with it," he answered as he pointed at the door in one corner of the store, where a few bags of the pokémon food spilled out. "Skye and Wade—my boys—got it as a prize from a contest, and I'm sure they wouldn't mind sharing a few to trainers who love Water pokémon."

Cassius nibbled on his lower lip. Now that he thought about it, there'd been that competition called the Swimmer's Cup yesterday that not only had cash prizes, but a whole year's supply of Chinchou Chow, as well. Too bad that Dennison's little garden wielder had beaten him to the money. Still, the pokémon food was an excellent bonus to the cash he'd snatch.

As the trainer tromped out the pokémart with his Froakie and pokéchow, Cassius waited until some kids grabbed the other sales clerks' notice with questions about Water Stones and the pokémon that evolved from them. Afterwards, he shuffled towards the store owner and dangled his bait.

"Are you Mr. Andies?"

The man blinked at him before replying. "Why, yes, that would be me."

"It's about your boys."

A sigh. "I don't suppose that they've stumbled into trouble?" He plucked his eyeglasses from his face, squinted at them, and rubbed the edge of his shirt on the lenses.

Cassius needed to reel him in a bit more. He lowered his voice. "Do you have a sales clerk named Wade? Wiry boy with brown hair, violet eyes, and earrings on his right ear? He was wearing a black tank top today, I believe."

A ghost of a frown twisted the other's lips.

"He got hurt, and he's bleeding," Cassius continued smoothly. He wondered if he needed to inject a little more concern in his tone. "There've been a series of thefts at the various events of the Pokémon Fair, and your boy lurched into a scuffle with the crooks like a Magikarp blundering into Carvanha territory." He decided to make up a few more details. If memory served him right, Quodo's exiled son had an Eevee that Analyn had given him. "He fought using some strong pokémon like that Eeveelution, but there were just too many of the criminals."

Cassius could have danced a little jig at Mr. Andies's suddenly pale complexion. The other man swallowed and abruptly fished out a cellphone from his pocket. Cassius froze as the communication device beeped into life. Lucky for him, the call didn't connect.

"Must be no signal…"

It was an effort to stifle a sigh of relief. He proceeded with the catch. "What's the name of your other boy? Skye? Well, he was beaten up pretty badly, got some teeth knocked out and a bone broken in his leg. Your boys need you, Mr. Andies. And I happen to know where they are."

The hand on his cellphone was visibly quivering now. "I'll call an officer I know—"

"We don't have time," Cassius snapped. "For all we know they've been done in by those thugs. Wade looked like he needs to get to a hospital fast, so we better get to them pronto."

At last, Mr. Andies nodded. Even his voice quavered.

"What's your name, Sir?"

"Cassius. Cassius Lummer."

"Take me to my boys, Mr. Lummer. Right this minute." Without even bothering to explain the situation to the girls who were helping out at the pokémart, Mr. Andies strode out the door.

_Hook. Line. And sinker. _Cassius strolled out and made sure that the fool in front of him couldn't see his sneer.

- x x x -

Author's Notes

_Hopefully, the future chapters will leave little doubt as to the theme I've been working on in this fic._

_Sometimes this question can be terrifying to ask, but, what do you think? :)_


	28. Chapter 27

Author's Notes

_Wow, June sure revealed a plethora of information regarding the upcoming Pokémon games! It's so exciting!_

_Anyway, on with the fic!_

_I don't own Pokémon. Even if X and Y are still four months away, the amount of information that came from E3 and CoroCoro is enough to last me for this next drought._

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 27**

A cascade of vines faced the four of them. Daith wouldn't have been surprised if his younger brother had used this as some form of gate which he could manipulate with his power. Perhaps it was also a marker for what lay ahead, and their pokémon seemed to be aware of this: Skye's Zubat and Wade's Wooper had stilled and were staring expectantly at those vines.

He was about to tell Arbok to fire a Gunk Shot when a pillar of whirling winds as tall and unyielding as an Empoleon emerged from the ground in front of Skye. Daith's hair thrashed, and flecks of dust and dirt that had been caught up in the gusts threatened to either smother them or make them sneeze. Without warning, the whirling winds soared and tore through the vines like scissors on paper.

Daith observed Skye for a moment. He was willing to bet that the long-haired boy had conjured that Gust attack. Even though Daith was still astounded that there were other wielders in the world aside from him and his younger brother, Skye's own sibling, Wade, didn't seem impressed at all. Wade had simply rolled his eyes and stepped through the new opening without slowing down. Agnes, though, couldn't seem to get over such alien powers and stared at Skye as if he were going to sprout an extra head.

The new chamber seemed to spread out endlessly before them. This massive space was perhaps the most illuminated place in Coast Cave, as several lamps burned in small corners and cast romping shadows on the towering stalagmites and hanging stalactites. The air felt humid and hot, a little less than the level of a sauna or a really bad summer day, something that made that cold, iron hand clamping on his insides, the numbness in his hands, and his nausea worse.

"Daith," came Wade's breathless call a few feet in the distance. "Over here."

He wasn't sure what to make of Wade's unease. Dragging his feet, he followed the teen, who had his hand on a cluster of stalagmites that seemed to be covering something from view. Swallowing and failing miserably from removing that lump in his throat, he rounded the craggy stone structures then found himself stopping in his tracks at the sight before him.

Sprawled on a tatty reed mat beside a solitary lamp, staring emptily at the world around him with his hands tied behind his back, lay his father. The one who had abandoned him when the Village Elders discovered his Poison-wielding ability and sentenced him to banishment. The one who had let his son be hauled off by the villagers like a rabid Drapion without even fighting for his sake. Tossed into the merciless desert, under the ruthless sun, he had searched the angry throng and hoped that his father would be there and raging at the others for treating his son this way.

But delusions were delusions. After all, his father hadn't arrived. Not even when Daith had waited, slumped on the sand, after the mob had gone back to their homes. Even when the chill of the desert night had sunk deep into his bones and the sun had been replaced by the impassive moon, even when thirst and dehydration had threatened to take his then sixteen-year old life away.

He had never been there.

Daith wondered how he could stay silent when his entire being screamed in protest at the mere thought of rescuing this man.

Then he remembered. The image of his trembling younger brother clinging to him and pleading, a moment that had burned his eyes. Willing his feet to move forward, he stood in front of his father.

"Leave me alone, Dennison," said the man, his voice cracking. "Isn't it enough that you had my boy killed? Why must you continue to torment me? Won't you just leave me alone to die?"

Daith stared. Was he talking about his younger brother?

"Guido is safe," he replied softly. "And there will be no one dying today."

The man on the mat took in a ragged breath, and his head jerked towards him. He saw his father's emaciated face for the first time. Feeling a small gasp breaking out from his lips, he almost took a step back. Where was that firm jaw, those solid, sure eyes, and rugged countenance that he remembered from all those years ago? Mesmerized by the other's unfamiliar features, Daith felt himself rooted to the spot.

"Who…?"

He wanted to yell, "It's Daith! Can't you even recognize your other child? Or have you really forgotten?" but somehow couldn't find any words.

[Daith,] Arbok suddenly said. [People are coming.]

The man on the mat shifted his attention to the Poison pokémon. "An Arbok…?" he murmured. Another jagged gasp, this time louder than the first, tore out from him. "It can't be…

"… Are you Daith…?"

He couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Distant voices and countless footsteps were drawing near them.

"—they're over here!—"

"—where…?"

"—beside those rocks, you nitwit!—"

"—get them!—"

Daith peeled his attention away from the man on the mat. He shifted his weight and cocked his head towards the ruckus.

"I take it that he's your father?" Wade asked softly as he regarded the man.

"Now where in Regirock's rump did you get _that_ conclusion?" Agnes remarked snarkily.

"Hi, Mr. Redspike," Skye greeted as he jogged to him and worked on the rope binding the man's wrists. "Guido's okay. He's at the Seaside Hotel with Mrs. Redspike. Whatever it is that that stupid psychic told you isn't true; he just lost his hold over Guido's mind and thinks that the reason for that was he got killed."

Why did Daith feel relieved that someone else had uttered those words to his father? He tried to shut off the exclamations of disbelief wheezing from the man but found himself spellbound by the other's mere voice.

"I don't like this," Wade suddenly muttered.

Now _that_ jolted him out of nostalgia, melancholy, or whatever it was that had taken a hold of him. Out of instinct his hand slid into his pocket and crunched over his box of cigarettes. Realizing that there was no reason to hold back, he fished a stick out and promptly lit it. He took a long drag that nearly finished half the cigarette and blew out the smoke into the shadows above.

With his nerves no longer going haywire, Daith surveyed the scene before them. His forehead furrowed. Consable thugs surrounded them from all sides of the vast chamber and had even blocked their exit. Filthy-looking in appearance but menacing in demeanor, they had suddenly quieted down and were leering at them as if waiting from some signal to strike.

A new set of footsteps echoed. This one took its time, as if ambling to a soiree.

"It's Dennison…" he heard his father murmured from behind him.

Daith lifted his hand to just below his chest and gathered his power. He didn't even bother looking at the small, amorphous, violet blob that had materialized above his palm. Nor did he reply to Wade when the teen whispered a hesitant "Daith…?" He squinted his eyes and strained his ears until he could seize either sight or sound of this Dennison character.

"Now who would be so ridiculous as to storm through the Consable Clan's temporary hideout without even any bother for the consequences?"

_There!_ Daith flung the purple blob, which transformed into a ribbon of noxious sludge that whipped out to encircle a man with a stick-like nose, a pointed chin, a long-sleeved button-down, and a pair of trousers. The whirling tendrils of poison also ensnared a lean pokémon sporting a prolific moustache and twin spoons in its hand.

"What in Lugia's name—?" Dennison began.

The pop of opening pokéballs reverberated throughout the chamber. Out of the corner of his eye, Daith saw that the Consable henchmen had released their pokémon and looked ready to pounce at them. He only allowed himself a moment to marvel at the accuracy of Wade's information about these thugs; their pokémon were indeed mostly Ground types: spiky Sandslash, solid Graveler, diminutive Dugtrio, bulky Donphan, slimy Quagsire, bone-toting Marowak, and lumbering Camerupt. Oddly enough, among the multitudes of Ground pokémon was the occasional Murkrow, small birds that seemed to flit in and out of the dancing shadows that the lamps cast.

The silence that ensued was deafening. A low rumble sounded in the distance, but Daith paid it no heed. He was a mere second away from snuffing the life out of this vile man who had forced his gentle younger brother to commit deeds that could twist a soul. Guido had nearly died because of it.

"You're Dennison, aren't you?" Beside him, Arbok hissed and bared its fangs.

The psychic had somehow managed to bury his shock. He scrutinized Daith with the vulturine air of a Staraptor.

"Ah… the older sibling that little Guido had informed me about." Those calculating eyes never left him. Dennison spoke slowly and surely, as if he were the predator and not the other way around. "Such a remarkable genealogy, to have brothers in the same family who can wield the pokémon elements." Dennison's eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "Is that a tragic past I see? It seems that certain authorities discovered such deliciously bizarre powers and deemed you as a danger…"

Daith gritted his teeth but didn't speak.

"Judgment fell, and you… were exiled… But why didn't your parents come to your rescue? Why hadn't Daddy intervened? Maybe he was ashamed of you? Or perhaps he was horrified at his own son, a monster who could communicate with Poison pokémon and use their ghastly techniques…? A boy who could drain life by inflicting horrible diseases and debilitations would surely be the end of them all, now wouldn't he…?

Daith realized that the cigarette was no longer in his hand. His fist shook.

"So then, why are you here, Mr. Poison wielder? Why bother to rescue your father at all? He's the reason why you've been flung to such a far place, without family to come home to, without a sibling to act a big brother to. Wouldn't it be better to…

"… kill him instead…?"

Surely his father was hearing everything? Why wasn't the damned man saying anything at all?

"Yes… just a little more… and your mind will be mine…"

Daith gasped. He saw them now. Wraithlike hands reaching towards him. Probably Dennison's way of ensnaring another's mind! It was too late to dodge them now. His breath hitched as the hands encircled his head—

Except something suddenly slammed into him from behind. Grunting, he fell forward and barely stopped from hitting his face on the pebbly ground. He felt his power wink out like a blown candle. A weight slid off to his side. After blinking a few times he found out that that weight turned out to be Wade, who was gulping for air and had both hands on each temple as if trying to crush his skull. The other's pained eyes met with his own.

"He almost got you," Wade managed to rasp out. Still clutching his head, he fell to his side and moaned.

"Wade!" Skye was instantly by the other teen's side. "You okay? What's wrong with you?"

"Now hang in there, you little urchin," Agnes barked. "I know you're made of sterner stuff."

A chill danced its way down Daith's spine as he stood up. Why was there the face of an Alakazam with empty eyes hovering around Wade's face?

"Meddling buffoon…" Dennison glided towards them with his pokémon trailing close behind. He looked as if a slice of cake that was meant for him had been snatched away. The psychic suddenly stopped and, to everyone's astonishment—Consable henchmen included—giggled like a maniac.

When his fits of laughter finally died down, he tossed a grin to Wade, who was being hauled up by Skye. The poor teen was still huffing for breath. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead.

"Look who it is, boys!" Dennison said. "The prodigal son returns. The head of the clan's banished baby! It's Wade Consable!"

Jeers and guffaws exploded from the henchmen. A little dumbfounded from Dennison's announcement, Daith found himself staring at the brown-haired youth, who watched the Consable thugs like a Wurmple about to be gobbled up by bird pokémon.

"Hey, wimp! You're taller, but I bet Sneasel are still better than you at pilfering pokémon eggs!"

"Where've you been all these years? Tryin' to get the honest livin' that your Momma taught you?"

"A crook's boy who can't steal! Pathetic, huh?"

"Hey, kid!" another goon called out. "Must be wondering why we have all these Murkrow helping us out." He grasped one of the Dark-Flying pokémon by the neck and held it up as if it were ready for slaughter. "It's their punishment, of course! This is what these stupid birds get for getting in the way of whacking you some discipline all those years ago."

"Yeah, it's all your fault that these little Murkrow have to slave their way for us," another henchman taunted.

Dennison was snickering in the midst of all the insults. "Are you here to see your father? That's what I'm seeing in your mind right now. Maybe fumble for that remote dream called revenge? But how do you plan on achieving that when you look like one little puff at you is enough to make you tumble?"

"Stop it!"

The words cracked out like a whip. Though the air was stagnant and stale, furious winds had erupted and had knocked the Consable thugs and their stunned pokémon against the walls of the chamber. Daith had to shield his face from the cutting winds and choking dust. With squinted eyes he spotted Agnes clinging for dear life to her Lunatone. Wade had his eyes tightly closed as he struggled to maintain his balance. As for Skye… Skye was beside himself with rage. The boy was surrounded by spinning columns of gusts that stretched up to the high ceiling. With his long hair thrashing, eyes glowing, teeth bared, and fists trembling, he looked like he could smash a boulder to dust.

The gales died down after a few seconds. Groaning and gasping, the Consable henchmen dropped to the ground and stared at them wide-eyed. Their pokémon appeared none the better, what with their distressed whines and tottery gaits.

Skye called back his Zubat and brought out three of his Flying pokémon arsenal: his Jumpluff, which despite its adorable appearance seemed to mirror its trainer's wrath, his Pidgeot, a powerful bird with majestic plumage, and his Honchkrow, which was a stark contrast to its pre-evolution due to its larger build, a feral confidence, and a proud stance that spoke of authority.

"There's no reasoning with any of you," the teen growled. If Daith wasn't as incensed as Skye about these thieves' behavior and how little they thought of Wade's existence, he would have smiled at the brown-haired youth's utter awe. With his eyes wide and jaw almost on the floor, Wade gawked at Skye as if seeing him for the first time.

"How could you treat someone that way?" continued the long-haired teen, his eyes afire. "If you think you can treat Wade like trash just because he doesn't believe in theft, in severing the bond that a pokémon has with its trainer, or in stepping on other people just to get rich, well then you're garbage yourself!"

"Do you fancy yourself his friend?" asked Dennison, dusting off the dirt from the sleeve of his button-up and his trousers. "Why bother being amiable with the son of a thief—?"

"That doesn't matter," Skye snapped. "We may not be blood-related, but he's still my kid brother. If you try to destroy him, then I'll bring you down. It's that simple—Ow, ow, ow! What was that for? You didn't need to fracture my arm!"

Daith blinked. Wade's fist had connected with Skye's arm. Hard. Apparently, the boy still had enough spunk to do that despite his haggard countenance.

"Could you get any schmaltzier, Birdbrain?" Wade murmured. "Pipe down. You're getting too worked up, and it's freaking me out."

"Well, I don't care! They piss me off so much—"

"Well, don't get a heart attack on my account."

"What is wrong with you? Here I am, acting as moral support for this stupid field trip just because you can't let go of these thugs, and I get a busted arm because you think I'm running amok?"

"Oh, go kiss a Qwilfish! Speaking of, I just got one. Wanna try?"

"Why do boys have to be boys?" Agnes grumbled, her palm on her forehead. Not bothering with beleaguered quips, Daith settled for a sigh. Rescue operation, indeed…

The ground suddenly shuddered. Then stopped. Then another tremor. Then stopped again. Daith seriously considered either grabbing for their Escape Ropes or teleporting outside to safety in case the cave seemed ready to collapse. The sequence of quakes punctuated by short periods of quiescence continued until a man trailed by a hulking Camerupt emerged from the darkness to stand a short distance behind Dennison. Daith identified the lumbering Fire-Ground pokémon as the cause of those tremors. As for its trainer… The way the Consable henchmen regarded this new figure told him that this was a higher power than the Clan psychic.

"What's all this racket, Dennison?"

The Clan psychic offered a perfunctory bow. "Just some intruders. We'll dispatch them shortly and have operations resume—"

"You spend too much time with your mind games when you should be dealing with these trespassers quick." The Camerupt behind the man rumbled in what seemed to be agreement.

"I apologize, Quodo."

"Then there's no point dawdling." The man called Quodo took a step forward and glared at them. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Wade, but only for a moment. With a stomp of his foot, he issued his order.

"Alright, men! Take 'em out!"

Chaos exploded.

- x x x -

Cassius believed that he had probably led Mr. Andies astray long enough. Besides, he was getting tired of winding his way through shops, tourists, Fair attractions, and the occasional idiot Ludicolo prancing about to a fast beat. He couldn't guide the other man too far, as the pokémart owner needed to return to his shop at high-speed once he agreed to pay the imaginary ransom for his boys. He also couldn't go to a place with too many people, as extortion was a craft better practiced without witnesses. And this clearing on the perimeter of Ebony, just behind a tall brick building that was being used as a warehouse, satisfied his requirements.

"Are you sure they're here?" asked Mr. Andies, anxiety making him breathless. "You really saw the whole thing?"

"Oh, I saw it, alright." Cassius tossed a pokéball and released the massive pokémon that had earned him first place at the Angler's Cup: his Wailmer. The bare ground shook a little as the gigantic, round Water pokémon bounced a little. "After all, I was the one who told those thieves to beat them up."

Mr. Andies stared at him.

"But don't worry, they're still alive. Barely, I might add." His hands tingled with excitement. "You want them back? Then here are my terms, Mr. Andies." He held up a bony finger. "One, bring me all the revenue you've gained since the beginning of the Fair. And two," he continued, adding another finger, "get me a minimum of ten bags of Chinchou Chow. No, make it twenty. You can always make up some story about finding a space to store them. And three," he said with a third finger, "ensure that no one knows about our little bargain. Once you've acquired everything I need, then I'll tell you where your precious boys are. Though if you refuse or fail any of my conditions, then we can always let them bleed to death. And you get to be squashed flat by my sweet Wailmer."

The man was silent. Probably feeling indecisive and helpless, with a smattering of shock. Cassius almost crowed.

"Corsola, help me out."

An eyebrow went up. Now where did _that_ pokéball come from? Cassius frowned. He should have known that those oversized pockets in the pokémart owner's apron could hold an entire collection of pokémon knickknacks, capture balls included.

"Ancient Power."

The gall of this man! How dare he defy him! Unfortunately for him, surprise had already consumed too much time. The blasted chunk of pink coral had already chucked a volley of mystical rocks at his Wailmer.

"You upstart!" Cassius snarled. "This'll teach you! Earthquake!"

The ground trembled. Mr. Andies's Corsola shrilled before plopping down.

Cassius sneered. "All this cheekiness is futile. Now hurry up before I change my mind about revealing your boys' whereabouts—"

"Crobat, come."

_Now, what—?_

"Cross Poison."

The fact that Cassius couldn't read Mr. Andies's expression made his mouth go a little dry. Shouldn't the man be reduced to a useless pile of worry? As the Poison-Flying pokémon hurtled towards his Wailmer, he grappled with the dilemma of whether to drown his opponent with a Water Gun or work on the type advantage and order a Rollout.

He decided on the latter. But as Wailmer prepared to crush the flying pest, Crobat slashed his pokémon with the Poison technique.

"What are you waiting for, you dolt! Rollout now!"

Wailmer spun and collided with its opponent. Still, the lack of momentum barely caused a dent. After one more Cross Poison, his Wailmer crashed down with a cry and stopped moving.

"Now, you've done it! I won't be placated until I've driven you bankrupt!" He hurled his next pokéball. "Quagsire, get rid of that winged nuisance!"

"Where are my sons?"

Cassius frowned. "Sons? Little Wade isn't your boy. He's the worthless child of our boss, the head of the criminal syndicate called the Consable Cla—"

Mr. Andies's reply mowed over the rest of what he was about to say. "Really? So Wade has a father? Where was this man when Skye found him drenched in the rain with nowhere to go? Where was he when he refused to eat, talk, or play outside with the rest of the kids and the meadow pokémon as children ought to do while growing up? Was he there to watch when Wade would sneak out at night to train his pokémon at such a feverish pace, as if the very act would drive away whatever demons that were tormenting him? Was it because of him that every time I tried to pat the boy's head or rub his back, he expected to be struck?"

Cassius could only gape. For a man whose knuckles were going white from quivering, his voice seemed unnaturally steady.

"Wing Attack!"

Cassius swallowed. "Quagsire, Mud Bomb!" _Oh no, wait, that won't work—_

Before he could change the command, the Crobat had already swooped down on his idiot pokémon and batted it with its wings. Quagsire opened its mouth and fired a ball of mud, but the attack hardly reached the Poison-Flying pokémon. His error directed the battle to an inevitable end: Quagsire's loss at it was pummeled by another Wing Attack.

Growling, Cassius recalled his rubbish pokémon and flung daggers at the pokémart owner with his eyes. "So you think you can play family and pretend to be the righteous father? What a farce! Fact of the matter is, you're not blood-related! Does Wade even call you 'Daddy?'"

"We may not be blood-related," Mr. Andies answered, "but I consider him every bit my son. You made a mistake in hurting my boys. I'll have you regret the day you first laid eyes on them!"

Mouth dry and teeth gritted, Cassius released his last pokémon: a dumb Wooper. The slimy creature chirruped as it observed the Crobat flapping beside the pokémart owner. He wondered if the silly Water-Ground pokémon had any idea what in blazes was going on.

"Wing Attack!"

"Move it, you stupid pokémon!" he gnarled, not even caring that spittle was flying out. "Slam it to kingdom come!"

The Crobat dived and slugged his Wooper with its wings. Dazed, it attempted a Slam attack that missed its swift opponent.

"You fool!" Cassius cried. "Your idiocy will be the end of us! Alright, fire a Water Pulse!"

"One last Wing Attack, Crobat!"

How _dare_ he? One _last _Wing Attack? The nerve of this man, thinking he could steal his last chance of recovery from that humiliating series of events with the Consable Clan. Here he was, at the final step to an opportunity for wealth and power, yet this man just had to ruin everything!

His Wooper fainting jolted him back to reality. Dreams of owning his own syndicate shattered. Fantasies of living in mansions on tropical beaches crumbled. There was no other choice now.

He fled.

Something struck his back. Losing his balance, he thudded into the ground and scraped his elbows and knees. He craned his neck up and gasped as Mr. Andies's Crobat hovered in front of him. Scrambling to his feet didn't work well, as he suddenly felt his vest being yanked, resulting in his nose being a few uncomfortable centimeters away from the pokémart owner's. With his face so close, Cassius finally understood the expression radiating from the other's eyes. And for the first time in his life, he quailed in sheer terror.

"Now, I won't ask again…

"Where. Are. My. Sons?"

- x x x -

Author's Notes

_I'd like to thank a reviewer from some years ago who requested for a more active role for the father. Even though Mr. Andies didn't go with Skye and Wade into Coast Cave, I gave him a fight of his own, a chance to lay his claim on the kids._

_Thoughts? :)_


	29. Chapter 28

Author's Notes

_Hello, everyone! Here's the next Chappie._

_I don't own Pokémon. It's sometimes interesting to speculate how long this franchise is going to last. Who knows, it might reach a point when people who started with Red and Blue might be playing with their grandchildren, who might be preoccupied with __Pokémon Muon and_ _Tau._

- x x x -

**CHAPTER 28**

Shouts pierced the thick air. Pokémon screeched and growled as their trainers directed them in battle. The earth shivered and groaned as Ground attack after Ground attack ripped through it. All around them, shadows frisked and swayed like silent tribesmen around a sacrifice. Sometimes a Gust attack sliced through the sea of Consable henchmen and knocked both trainer and pokémon alike unconscious.

_Utter bedlam,_ Agnes thought as she told her Lunatone, Pointy, to induce her opponents into sleep with Hypnosis. Fortunately for her, she had experienced worse at the department store during a moving-out sale, so this trifling foofaraw wasn't something she couldn't manage.

"Alright, let's spread some more status and have a Confuse Ray, Briarby," she said. "As for you, Fluttle, why not have a big Yawn?"

Briarby the Xatu trilled, unfolded its wings, and released a sphere of mysterious energy that landed on a Sandslash, while Fluttle the Chimecho tinkled and opened its mouth at an unsuspecting Graveler.

"Next, pummel them with Confusions! But not you, Briarby." She pointed her cane at the muddled Sandslash and hollered, "Make them weep with a Night Shade!"

As her Psychic and Ghost attacks took wing, Agnes peeked at her companions from the corner of her eye. Skye's pokémon moved of their own accord without even any verbal commands from their trainer: the Jumpluff alternated between Sleep Powder and Giga Drain; the Pidgeot showered its foes with consecutive Wing Attacks; while the Honchkrow assaulted its enemies with Drill Pecks. The long-haired youth didn't seem content with staving off the endless waves of Consable thugs with his formidable pokémon, as he took the extra effort to fire an occasional Gust attack at any clansman who approached too near, especially to Wade. As for Daith, he had brought out another cigarette and was using its fumes to form a wall of Smog around his father, who for some reason couldn't seem to stand properly. One of the thieves' pokémon, a Dugtrio, dug its way under the noxious haze in an attempt to recapture Mr. Redspike, but its plans encountered an untimely end as Daith's Arbok struck it with an Aqua Tail.

Her mouth tightened. She didn't need to be psychic to know that this little venture was more than a rescue. She felt in her creaking bones that something deeper was at stake. And somehow, she had found herself getting caught up in its inexorable wake.

Not that she minded. This sure beat helping the police sniff out crooks with her clairvoyance, or looking for something to do at the Fair after that mortifying defeat at the Beam Tournament.

Agnes cackled as another Sandslash fell. She clonked her cane at its trainer's head then proceeded to her next victim.

"—get the punk grandma, you nitwits!—"

"—she's got Psychic pokémon!—"

"—then sic the Murkrow at her!—"

Black feathers fluttered and noisy caws echoed as the diminutive black birds dive-bombed her pokémon with Pursuit attacks. Agnes squawked in protest as her poor pokémon toppled to the ground.

"You got another thing coming if you think you can thump me down with Dark types," she growled. Hearing the snap in her voice, Pointy, Briarby, and Fluttle rose back up and waited for her next commands. "Let me show you that there's still hope for an old Poochyena to learn new tricks!

"Pointy, Rock Throw! Briarby, Aerial Ace! Fluttle, Signal Beam!"

Wade, Skye, Daith, and even Guido… These boys were battling their best for different reasons, but they didn't seem to realize that a common denominator existed. Rescuing fathers… Standing up for brothers… Fighting for family… These youngsters knew what mattered in life.

And by golly, this "punk grandma" was going to brawl just as hard so that the boys could seize their goals.

- x x x -

With his breath coming in ragged gasps, Wade shuddered as… something… stroked his mind. He felt like an eye had abruptly appeared inside his head and was peering into the deepest recesses of his memories and feelings. Combined with his lack of rest after being injured and healed, his persistent exhaustion from the race yesterday, his crackling nerves, and the fact that Consable henchmen left and right were rampaging around him with their pokémon, and this sensation of toting a foreigner in his mind was enough to make him explode.

[What's this intruder doing inside your head?] Gyarados roared mentally.

[How obtrusive,] Slowbro commented. [Such unsavory hobbies this odious man has.]

[Wasn't he the same one who lodged his consciousness into that Redspike boy's mind?] Slowking asked.

[The very same one,] Umbreon replied. [You know how he goes, Wade. He delights in bringing to light the suffering and insecurities of others.]

Dennison approached him with slow steps. No matter how much Wade braced himself against the imminent verbal assaults and fought against an overwhelming need to flee, he still felt like a little twig about to weather a nasty storm. "So you thought you could sidle into some household and live your life without regard for your past? How asinine. Wouldn't you agree that it's not logical for a family to pick up some unknown runt and raise him as one of their own? You think having your own bed, sleeping in the same room as the real son, and sharing the same meals will make you belong? You're a thief's boy, nothing else! And even with this distinction you remain an utter disappointment."

Wade's chest tightened. It got harder to breathe.

[That's a lot of dung spewing out of his mouth,] Gyarados snarled. [Don't tell me you actually believe him!]

[I detest violence,] Slowbro started, [but if he's going to continue in this vein then I will take immense pleasure in drowning him with a Surf!]

[That makes two of us,] Slowking added.

Umbreon was silent. But Wade could feel its anger bubbling, like a pot of hot water ready to burst.

"You think you've got your second chance," Dennison hissed, "and now you actually have the gall to try to give one to Quodo! The arrogance! Such so-called assistance is unsolicited and unbefitting. Who needs lectures on morality from a fourteen-year old who spent his younger years in the confines of a criminal syndicate?" The psychic threw up his hands in the air. "Well, if you're so desperate to see your father, then be my guest. I won't stop you." He flung a smirk at him. "Since I know you'll be absolutely tongue-tied…"

Wade's hands felt numb and chilly. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and tried to speak. But no sound came out.

"Quit dillydallying," the man with the Camerupt barked as he approached the two of them. He leveled a stern gaze at Wade. "There're intruders to dispose of. If you remember, Dennison, this entire operation was your idea, and I want it accomplished as fast as possible. We won't be moseying into Kanto to expand our territory anytime soon if you're just going to talk these trespassers to death."

Wade stared at the man. Did he know him from all those years ago? Why was he supposed to look familiar? The man was bald except for a small patch of black hair. Regarding his build, it seemed like a disease had eaten away at some parts of his body where fat used to be, and remnants of this lay in the oversized shirt covering his torso and the large pants that would have fallen were it not for the belt around his waist.

Dennison had called him Quodo.

But that was impossible. The father he knew was round enough to give a Wailmer a run for its money. The father he knew spoke in a voice that could awaken a slumbering Snorlax. He wasn't some man who tried to look authoritative despite an obvious haggardness, a man who was dwarfed by his own Camerupt when it used to be the other way around.

A hand on his shoulder kicked him out of reflective incredulity. Wade looked up at Daith, whose smoldering eyes could have pinned Dennison down on the ground.

"I'll take care of him," he promised. "It should have been me under his spell, but you took it, instead." When Daith shifted his attention to him, Wade almost flinched. Though after discerning the emotion on the other's face, he realized that he had no reason to. "Thank you." Daith offered a small smile. "I'll make sure to get him out of your head."

Why did he gain such strength from those words? Why did a smidge of confidence return when Daith squeezed his shoulder then stepped forward to face the clan psychic?

"Are you going to bring out a pokémon or not?" the man with the Camerupt suddenly asked.

For a moment, Wade gazed at the man who was supposed to be his father. Here he was in front of the head of the Consable Clan after all these years. Here he was taking the first step to a hope that, for once in his life, furnished him with a semblance of purpose. Unbidden, Daith's encouraging words replayed in his mind. He felt a sudden gust of air to his right, and when he looked he found out that Skye had blown away some idiot goon who had been sneaking toward him. To his left, Agnes shrieked commands and cackled madly at the Consable henchmen who were taking a licking from her armada of Psychic pokémon.

With hands clenching, Wade took a step forward.

[Umbreon, help me out.]

[Thought you'd never ask.]

- x x x -

Daith stood amidst the clamor of Consable goons yelling orders at their pokémon in futile attempts to subdue him and his companions. The ground quaked once more, but this barely diverted his attention from his target. With a cigarette between the second and third digits of his right hand, he released his Gengar, which eyed Dennison and his Alakazam with venomous eyes and a petrifying grin.

"I can always reduce your mind to a gurgling puddle," Daith began blandly, "but I won't be satisfied until I beat you in a battle. And unluckily for you, you will witness how a wielder fights."

Dennison bared his teeth. "Murkrow, crush this derisible buffoon with a Psychic attack!"

The Dark-Flying pokémon appeared in a flash of bright, red light. Daith didn't even give it time to flap it wings; he quickly loosed a stream of Smog from his cigarette. The tendril of smoke first encircled its neck before completely engulfing it.

[Finish it with a Sludge Bomb,] he told Gengar, which obliged by lobbing a purple blob at the unsuspecting Murkrow. The black bird squawked a final time before dropping senseless.

The Smog dissipated. Daith extended his hand, and after a little concentration released a purple powder from his cigarette.

"Mangy bird," Dennison snapped. "My other Murkrow better obliterate that annoying ghost—"

But as another Murkrow popped out from its pokéball, the purple powder descended like a ravenous being and inflicted the black bird with poison. With a smile that did not reach his eyes, Daith ordered Gengar to fire another Sludge Bomb, quickly knocking the Dark-Flying pokémon out.

"If you're going to enslave a pokémon species," Daith said softly, "then you better know how to maximize its potential so you don't lose easily. Obviously, you're not aware that those birds can evolve into stronger pokémon. They become slower but bulkier, and their offense reaches respectable levels."

"… Such knowledge doesn't change the fact that these stupid birds lost against a pokémon with a supposed type disadvantage," Dennison said. Daith savored the hesitation and breathlessness creeping into the psychic's voice. "Quagsire, get out here! That ghost's part Poison, so you can take those inane Sludge Bombs!"

"That's not going to prevent it from being poisoned," Daith remarked as he raised his cigarette and released another cloud of purple powder. For all the alleged intelligence and heightened mental capacity in the world, the Clan psychic seemed to be easily rattled by unfavorable circumstances. Didn't he realize that Gengar was adept not just with Poison techniques, but with Ghost ones, as well? True enough, the Water-Ground pokémon fell as a sphere of otherworldly energy crashed into it.

[Gengar, I leave you to take care of the Alakazam.]

[Of course. Refuse like them can never hold a candle to someone who's Elite Four level. Speaking of which, when we get back to Sinnoh, I demand a rematch with Lucian's own Alakazam! I am not losing again to some bookworm's page-pusher!]

[We won't be going back to Sinnoh until I destroy this foul being's mind,] Daith said. He took a few deliberate steps towards Dennison and raised his hand toward him.

"… Stay away…" the man whispered, a sound lost to the tumult of goons yelling, pokémon calling, and the ground occasionally shaking. His voice gained a desperate loudness. "… Stay away! Alakazam, Psychic!"

Gengar intercepted it with a Hypnosis, which instantly put it to sleep. In the meantime, Daith exercised the full faculties of his mind manipulation and maneuvered his way into the psychic's intellect. What little resistance he felt from the other's pitiful powers was immediately crushed.

"You will exit Wade's mind without any damage to his psyche," Daith murmured. As he approached the immobilized Clan psychic, his pokémon finished the dozing Alakazam with a Shadow Ball.

There. He felt it. He shifted his gaze to Wade, who was fending off the head of the Consable Clan's Dugtrio with his Umbreon. The boy froze for a moment and almost tottered to the ground. Skye's Honchkrow quickly stopped the fall by hauling him up from the back of his shirt. Sneaking a glance at him, Wade nodded before returning to his own fight.

But that didn't stop Wade's opponent from taking advantage of the momentary distraction. He barked an "Earthquake!" As the ground rumbled violently and a few chunks of the ceiling shattered on the ground, Daith went cold. What if those chunks had dropped on his father? He looked behind him and gasped at the fragment of a stalactite that had crashed into the spot beside where his father lay. Another falling rock threatened to flatten the man, but his Arbok, which had been guarding his father this whole time, smashed it to pieces with an Aqua Tail. Daith's head whipped back to the Clan psychic, whose eyes were glazed and whose mouth dumbly dripped spittle. He glanced back again at his father, who was struggling to crawl out of harm's way.

Why couldn't he stand? What was wrong with his leg?

[It looks like some disease has taken away your father's ability to walk,] Arbok said in his mind. [His right leg is a little deformed compared to his left.]

Daith's hand clenched. He knew the right thing to do, but how could he do it when Dennison's destruction was right there in the palm of his hand? Just a little more mental tweaking, just one final command to end his own life, and Guido would be avenged—

_Guido_.

He shuddered. Again, the image of his little brother clinging to him with trembling arms brought him to his knees. With a baleful glare at Dennison and his fallen Alakazam, Daith screamed in frustration and released his mental hold over the other's mind. After recalling his Gengar to its pokéball, he flashed out of sight and teleported beside his father.

Something inside him stirred. He attributed it to years of accumulated resentment. But as he gripped his father's arm so he could support him while they walked, his mouth went dry as he realized what it really was.

Like an Ursaring that had just woken up from hibernation, his retrocognition reared its head. The incorrigible thing activated and plunged him into a world far from screaming Consable henchmen, dangerous tremors, tumbling rocks, and suffocating cave air. His father's memories came to life and engulfed him in another reality.

He knew he should have stopped his retrocognition. But as he went back to the day that he was banished, all resolve and sense of danger evaporated. Arbok's panicked calls at him dissolved into a negligible buzz. Like a child in an obstacle course at the playground, he had to get at the end of these memories to find the answers to his questions.

His time stopped.

- x x x -

"You're still as soft as ever."

Wade flinched at his father's observation. In front of him stood Umbreon, worn out from receiving the Earthquake attacks that the other's Camerupt—which was now knocked out—and Dugtrio had called forth. His fist clenched. He didn't need a pokédex to know that one more Earthquake would be enough to send his Dark pokémon packing. A quick rummage in his backpack revealed a couple of restoratives, but unfortunately the Super Potion wouldn't be enough to haul Umbreon back to full health. He just hoped that its high defenses would help it last longer.

[I'm good, Wade,] the Dark pokémon said. [Just do what you have to do.]

His mouth tightened. [Then pass that Dugtrio a Confuse Ray.]

"Earthquake!"

Umbreon stumbled as the ground shook again. Heaving deep breaths and wiping the sweat from his forehead, Wade expended great effort to keep his balance. The quake ceased. Umbreon's legs shuddered from struggling to stand up, but it still managed to fire a Confuse Ray. His father didn't waste another moment; he told his befuddled Dugtrio to execute a Stone Edge. The Ground pokémon swayed and threatened to hurt itself. To Wade's dread, floating rocks materialized and circled around Dugtrio before soaring towards his drained Umbreon. It keened before dropping unconscious.

Wade couldn't stop his teeth from gritting. [You wait and see, Umbreon. I'll pull myself together. Just give me a few seconds. Slowbro, you're up next.]

The pink-colored pokémon appeared. His father immediately ordered a Night Slash, causing Slowbro to stagger a few steps back, but a Psychic attack finally stopped the onslaught of the petite Ground pokémon.

"If beating you in a battle will make you reconsider all of this," Wade began steadily, "then I'll do everything to make you stop hurting people."

"Hurting people?" His father released his next pokémon, a spherical Rock-Ground menace whose propensity to explode bordered on legendary: a Golem. "You referring to Dennison's schemes? Ah. The man really has roundabout ways of accomplishing things, doesn't he? Start with a Rock Polish, Golem!"

[No holds barred, Slowbro,] Wade said. [Surf!]

As Golem gleamed, his Water-Psychic pokémon summoned a large, tall wave that flavored the thick cave air with the scent of a tropical beach. Several Consable henchmen and their pokémon dove out of the way from the massive Water technique. The Surf attack smashed into the Golem and brought the hulking pokémon down with a deafening crash.

His father stared at his fallen Golem before recalling it. He leveled an impassive gaze at Wade. "I suppose I should apologize for letting Dennison get out of hand. The man's brilliant in his designs for clan progress, but his over-the-top ways can sometimes be annoying."

Wade's jaw almost dropped. _What?_

"So you think you have the guts to face the head of the Consable Clan," his father continued. He brought out his fourth pokémon: a rugged-looking rodent with a spiny body. "But why? Is what Dennison babbled about true? You intending to save my hide or something?" He chortled, but for some odd reason Wade could detect no hint of disdain or disbelief. "What a schmaltzy schoolboy. Analyn taught you too well."

"What _happened_ to you?" The words tumbled out of his mouth like a flood. "Are you really the father I knew? You used to be so hung up about being the richest and most feared criminal syndicate on the island. You used to stop at nothing to make sure that everyone knew who was the boss. Dennison should have received a thrashing for 'talking trespassers to death' instead of kicking us out of Coast Cave the first chance he got. You never cared about people who were inconvenienced by your sleazy operations. You _never_ apologized. Not even to Mom, who had to face your abuse every single day of her life till the moment she died!"

[Calm down,] Slowbro suddenly said. Wade swallowed. He didn't even realize that he had shouted those last few words. He took a few moments to steady his ragged breathing and shaking hands. The effort was futile, as he only succeeded in making himself dizzy.

The only answer to his barrage of questions was the din of ongoing pokémon battles—not to mention Agnes's incessant squawks and hoots in the distance. When he finally had enough courage to look his father in the face, Wade only saw a wry smile that barely curved the other's lips.

"Sandslash, Earthquake!"

_If this keeps up…_ Wade asked Slowbro to launch a Psychic attack. This didn't stop it from taking the Ground technique from Sandslash; it wobbled precariously as the earth rumbled. Dust and rocks crashed down from the ceiling, throwing up smoke and mud. Screams erupted. Panicked at the prospect that his companions had been crushed by the falling debris, Wade waved off the haze with his hands and searched for the others. He breathed out in relief as he heard Skye's calls and Agnes's shrieks. As the smoke settled, his heart stopped when he spotted Daith kneeling beside Mr. Redspike, both of them unmoving. Daith's Arbok hissed and revolved around them at a frantic pace, as if trying to rouse them from some stupor. Another chunk from the ceiling threatened to squash the two, but Arbok batted it off with a quick Aqua Tail.

"That's the problem with digging too many tunnels," his father commented as he eyed the ceiling. "When you shake things up, everything has this tendency to crumble." He then shifted his attention to his Sandslash and didn't seem alarmed at its sudden defeat.

Wade gasped. "You can't mean…"

The other didn't let him finish. The man released his final pokémon: a robust Donphan that stomped its foreleg as it appeared from its pokéball.

"Earthquake."

The ground moaned and shivered. More debris fell and shattered. A boulder thudded to the spot just a few feet to the left of Wade's father. For some reason, the man didn't shout or cry for help; he just stared at Wade with an expression that he couldn't grasp. A second boulder crashed down, this time an arm's length to the right of his father.

Arbok's frenzied hisses snatched his attention. His head whipped towards Daith and Mr. Redspike, who remained immobilized. The Poison pokémon deflected another rock with an Aqua Tail, but it looked so worn down that Wade doubted it would be able to parry the next boulder that threatened to flatten Daith and his father.

The ground continued to quiver. If he didn't move, they might not make it out of the cave alive. And all this would be for naught.

[Slowbro…]

[Hurry, Wade.]

His heart pounded. There was no time to hesitate or to weigh consequences.

[We're going to move Daith and Mr. Redspike close to us,] he told Slowbro. Using his remaining strength, he readied his telekinesis. [At my signal, you use Psychic.]

A third rock fell behind the leader of the Consable Clan, who remained unmoving. Wade swallowed. He'd have enough time to bring the other out of harm's way, too, wouldn't he? And why was the man still staring at him like that?

[And… now!]

Like statues, Daith and Mr. Redspike hovered up and towards him. Ignoring the growing headache that felt like it would soon split his head, Wade braced himself and, with Slowbro's aid, levitated the two until they thudded right in front of him. Daith seemed to wake up from the impact. He blinked in confusion at Mr. Redspike, then at Wade, who almost passed out were it not for Daith's hands quickly catching him by his shoulders.

"My… father…" Wade gasped out.

His eyes caught sight of the clan head. But only for a moment.

His mouth opened in a silent scream as a large part of the ceiling fell down on the man.

Not even his Donphan would have been able to shrug that off.

The world disintegrated into a hodgepodge of senses. Was that him shouting? Arms suddenly bound him like a straightjacket, and before he knew it Skye was telling him that they needed to leave.

But how could he leave? He couldn't abandon his father. Not after he'd resolve to bring him back. Not after—

[Let's go, Wade,] Slowbro said firmly.

The world spun. Must be those stupid Escape Ropes. He struggled against the arms restricting him, but his body wouldn't cooperate. Helpless, he had no choice but to allow himself to be towed like a rag doll. They fled Coast Cave, which roared and trembled until it collapsed.

- x x x -

Author's Notes

_Someone kick me into writing the remaining chapters... xD_


End file.
